


In the crosshairs

by Hectatess



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, Alternate Universe - Human, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Background Sabriel, Destiel - Freeform, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Light BDSM, M/M, Murder Husbands, Sam is truely innocent here, Sort Of, Suicidal Thoughts, Tattooed Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-21 18:39:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 37
Words: 50,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17647829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hectatess/pseuds/Hectatess
Summary: Dean is pretty content with his life. He is getting Sam through college, even though their father died a few years back, and they are not exactly living like bums. The only downside is the way he makes the extra money. He followed in his father’s footsteps and became an assassin. But, he has some standards left, thank you very much. He only kills douchebags who deserve it. Giving karma a much needed helping hand.When he actually finds a boyfriend he loves, all seems to be perfect....Castiel hasn’t had the best of lives. Being kicked out of his parents home because he is gay ended up with him living in South Korea for a decade and a half, but now he is back in the States, working as a waiter for his brother, Gabriel.But coincidentally he also works for one of the family businesses. These businesses are not the nice, high-rise office ones. Michael runs a tight ship in the assassination world, and Castiel is one of his top employees.When he ‘steals’ the hit of another assassin, things start to change...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Oh my... my very first ‘bang’ and I get to have the kick-off!  
> Kinda nervous, kinda excited, kinda awed.
> 
> Thanks to the amazing Beesandbroomsticks for the AWESOME art they made! Check that art out on Tumblr at https://beesandbroomsticks.tumblr.com/  
> Also thanks to my sweet Discord-sis, https://archiveofourown.org/users/MalMuses/pseuds/MalMuses for being my beta.  
> More thanks to my other Discord peeps, because they supported me and helped me suss out so much. So love you guys! 🥰

 

Sighing, he stretched. This was going to be a long night.  
He squinted at the lit window across the street where a meagerly decorated room was visible.  
The occupant, a slightly overweight, middle aged man, sauntered into view, his black silk bathrobe open to well past his padded midsection.  
He spoke to someone else, while flipping off the light and that irked the man on the roof.  
“Damnit,” he whispered low. “You were supposed to be alone tonight.”

Still he raised his torso up from the tacky bitumen and shifted to where his gear stood.  
Pressing an eye to his scope, he quietly moved the rest of his body in better alignment.  
The green hues of the night-vision drew out the details of the room, including a flash of skin the man on the roof had rather not seen.  
He shuddered, but a battle calm settled over him as he watched the man and a woman settle on the bed.  
From her clothing to the way she held herself, he knew what she was.  
A hooker. A rich one, with the choice to turn people down, but a hooker none the less. So she would be gone later.  
He could wait. He rolled onto his back. This could be a while.

The woman was a pro.  
He knew the ‘tastes’ of the scruffy guy and sadly, he liked his bed mates to be loud.  
The screams that reached his ears sounded rather real.  
Seeing that he was on a roof, four floors higher and fifty yards off, he surmised she must have a good set of lungs.  
With a sigh, he fixed his eye to the scope again, and saw the details sharpen once more in that alien green.  
The man looked like he was done for, and the woman was looking down at him with a disdainful glare while she shrugged on her dark fur coat.

She was petite, with full dark curls and a sharp, calculating look. And one killer smirk.  
If he had to guess, that lady was happy in this life, and she loved fleecing guys like this one.  
He waited until he could see her walk down the street and get into a cab.  
He waited more, just in case.  
The night was silent, except for the distant city rumbles, and the screech of an alleycat or two.  
Through the night-vision scope the man was a big lump, covered with a blanket.  
Silent as an owl and lithe as a panther, the man on the roof stood, levelled a gun and fired.

The ‘kchink’ of the harpoon hitting brick, was lost in another yowl from a cat and the man smirked in his balaclava.  
He tied the other end of the thin, but strong, cable to the hook in the wall, checking he small amount of malleable explosive that would sever the cable if he detonated it, obliterating any evidence.  
He rolled his head around his shoulders and checked the scope one more time, just to be sure.

A dark spot showed on the blanket, and it was rapidly expanding.  
“What the...” he gasped.  
He knew that kind of spot... it was the kind that said someone else had done his handiwork!  
It also meant he had to go. Now.  
Mind swirling with dark cusses and threats towards whomever shot his victim before him, he packed his stuff, slid down the zip-line, scrabbled up the opposite roof, detonated the charge and made his way towards the streets.

The next morning the news blew up with the death of M.E.T. Atron, the rich multi-millionaire. And with the evidence that suddenly turned up that he had been a blackmailer, a human trafficker, a money launderer and so on and so forth, his death was tainted an suddenly less big than his crimes  
The man that should have been his victim, picked because he couldn’t keep his hands off innocent little children, appeared to be an even bigger scumbag than he had ever imagined.  
The kill might not have been his, but the knowledge that this piece of dirt was no longer on the face of this Earth was satisfying none the less.

That satisfaction only climbed when his bank account mounted with the agreed hit fee. Seemed his client thought he’d made the hit.  
When the news about the death and crimes of mr. Atron started fading out, the crime of pedophilia still hadn’t been mentioned.  
That soured his mood and he decided another anonymous tip should be made. That dirtbag needed to be exposed, even though he was dead now.  
He gathered his information on a generic flash-drive, wiped it clean of his prints and dropped it off in the police mailbox the next night.


	2. Chapter 2

He was lucky.  
His target had fallen for the bait hook, line, sinker and rod.  
Now all he had to do was wait.  
Humming softly to himself, he adjusted his position so he could see more of his surroundings.

A movement on another rooftop, roughly 25 to 30 yards closer to the lit window, caught his attention.  
It wasn’t a cat or any other night prowling animal. The movements were too calculated. Too human.  
He squinted and had to fight down the laugh that bubbled up in the pit of his stomach.  
Even from this distance, he could easily recognise a sniper nest.  
It seemed that their target had attracted more than one assassin.

 

Amused, he watched the other person.  
They were good. Barely visible, no glints or glimmers from their weapon and/or gadgets. No telling light flares from a phone.  
He’d spot any sniper who was fool enough to bring his phone with him on a job.  
Even with a flip cover on, that light was bright enough in the darkness to give them away, and any notification made those things light up like the 4th of July.  
Thats why he always relied on audio.

His simple smartwatch gave two soft beeps. His associate was out. Time was ticking... but the other sniper was still out there.  
He watched them, as they peered over the roof edge, probably making sure the coast was really clear.  
In a split second he’d made his decision. Time was ticking even more now.  
He grabbed his rifle and used the scope to watch them get ready..  
If the man, his tight black jeans and turtleneck didn’t leave any doubts about that, even made one sound, it would be time for action.

The second assassin levelled a harpoon-gun, and that marked the opportune moment.  
He tugged his barrel slightly to the left, aiming just over that black-clad shoulder.  
He squeezed the trigger right when the harpoon hit and the soft ‘pop’ was perfectly masked by it.  
Watching tensely, he never let his rifle down. He needed confirmation his shot had been good.  
He knew it was, but until he saw the wound, he’d never be sure.  
Blood started seeping through the blanket, and he was satisfied.

He swiped his scope back to the other assassin.  
The guy was staring through his scope, frozen.  
It made him swallow a laugh.  
_‘Yeah, I took out your target... sorry. I hope you’ll still get your fee though. You deserve it for just the time and effort,’_ he thought with a slanted smirk.  
Suddenly, the other guy was moving. Silent, efficient and fast.  
Intrigued, he kept watching as the man packed his stuff and zip-lined off. In the small flare of white light from the explosion, he could see the other’s eyes.  
Even in the dim light they were obviously green.  
The man blinked, turned and melted into the shadows like a ghost.

He knew he was staring, but he couldn’t make himself move.  
Three soft beeps. His associate was getting anxious.  
Sighing, he turned and cleaned up the place, policing his brass, looking to make sure he left no trace. No evidence he was ever there.  
If he dreamt about cat-green eyes, that was his problem.


	3. Chapter 3

“Dean!”  
Yawning, Dean shuffled into the kitchen of the apartment he shared with his brother.  
“What is it, Sammy? You know I’m no good without coffee first,” he grumbled.  
Sam stood at the counter, steaming mug of caffeinated Heaven in his hand.  
He blindly held it out for his brother to take, his eyes glued to the tv in the living-room  
Frowning, Dean followed his gaze.  
The tv was broadcasting the news, and the scruffy face of Atron showed once again.  
“Atron?” Dean grumbled, sipping his wake-up juice. “What of it? He’s much more of an asshat than anybody could’ve thought. What else is new?”

Sam just pointed at the screen, pressing one of his slender fingers to his lips.  
The anchor looked shocked, despite her professional mask.  
“...seems there has been yet another crime that smears the already completely fouled name of the recently murdered multi-millionaire. New evidence has surfaced, which implies he wasn’t just a crime lord. Pictures and testimonies have come to light making him out to be sexually abusing minors. Some as young as four years old. These testimonies have been made to police officers, but somehow they got buried and no charges ever got pressed.”

Sam looked nauseated, and Dean rubbed slow circles on his brother’s back.  
“It’s ok, Sammy. At least everyone knows. Brady has been avenged.”  
Sam abruptly turned around and buried his face in the crook of Dean’s neck.  
Dean sighed and hugged him until he gave a shuddering sigh and relaxed.  
“There ya go, bud. Better?” he asked, running a hand through the long locks.  
Sam nodded and gave him a watery smile.  
“Yeah... it’s just... After all these years... I feel... relief, I guess. But it also brought back memories.”  
Saddened to the bone that this good news still had a bad effect on Sam, Dean hugged him again.  
“I’m sorry, Sammy. I’m so sorry,” he whispered into the soft hair.

Dean knew that the boy Sam was high-school besties with, Brady Tyson, had been abused, both physically and mentally, by Atron for years.   
He had confided in Sam one day, and Sam had convinced him to go to the police.  
The police officer had taken his statement down, promising they’d look into it.  
They never did, and Brady’s mental health went down in a spiral.  
When Sam decided to not go to Stanford to study, even though he could, Brady took it bad.  
So bad, that he’d hung himself in his dorm, second year in college.  
Sam had been devastated.   
  
Dean watched Sam like a hawk the next week.  
He was more quiet than usual, but showed every sign of making it through, as the week progressed.  
Yet sometimes Dean caught him staring off into the middle distance, a bitter trek around his usually smiling mouth.  
“Sam?” he ventured one day.  
Sam slowly turned his head to him, his fox eyes grey with sadness.  
“Four years old, Dean...” he whispered, voice breaking.

Shit.  
“I know, Sammy. But he’s dead now. So other kids are safe,” he tried, but Sam vigorously shook his head, hair flying.  
“That’s not it. The ones he did get his filthy paws on, Dee. What will become of them?”  
Dean bit his lip.  
“I dunno, Sam. I honestly hope they can get at least some form of aid from his fortune, because those poor kids are gonna need a whole fuckton of therapy.”  
Sam nodded, but his eyes kept that soul-hurting look.  
“But I bet chances of that are next to non-existent, Dean. And that bites,” he said sadly and turned away.

Double shit.  
“Look, bud. I know it won’t change anything, but how about a nice dinner at that new place down the block?”  
Sam blinked and his mouth dared form a small smile.  
“I’d like that, Dean. Get my mind to other places. I’ve been thinking too hard.”  
They grabbed their coats and left.


	4. Chapter 4

Castiel liked this job.   
It wasn’t a very prestigious one, but it got him by, and he liked helping people.  
So, when the two men walked in, obviously new to the place, he smiled and asked them if he could help them.  
The shorter or the two licked his lips, and Castiel was hard pressed to not moan.  
The guy was gorgeous!   
A perfect example of DaVinci’s Golden Ratio, if he was any judge.  
And the slight blush that appeared on his cheeks made tiny freckles stand out.  
Before Castiel could get a good look at his eyes, he lowered them.

“We’d like a table for two, please,” the tallest man said in a warm and pleasant voice.  
Castiel nodded at them and his smile broadened.  
“Of course, kind sirs. Follow me please.”  
The red blush on the freckled man intensified, and deep down, Castiel felt pleased that he made that happen.  
He brought them to a table, and left them to get menus.

“Hey, Cassie... you got a Moose and a Ken-doll in the house,” his brother quipped around a bite of chocolate.  
“I know, Gabriel. I welcomed them here myself. Please excuse me. I’m getting them menus,” Castiel answered curtly.  
He was not in the mood for Gabriel’s humour.  
“So... in all honesty, bro... who’d you wanna gun for?” Gabriel said in a stage whisper.  
Rolling his deep blue eyes, Castiel tried to ignore him.  
“I’m partial to big guys...” Gabriel mused, running a finger over the counter absentmindedly.

Castiel huffed a laugh.  
“Well, compared to you, most men my length and above are big, and I had to look upward to both,” he snidely answered.  
Gabriel threw him a look that spelled ‘don’t play dumb. You’re too smart for that.’  
“Then I’m claiming the Moose. He’s taller,” he groused, sounding like a petulant toddler.  
Shaking his dark-haired head, Castiel waved him off.  
He grabbed two menu’s and made his way back to the table.

He was maybe six feet away, when the short haired man suddenly raised his voice and in a clear tone called out: “Balsa.”  
On instinct Castiel dropped, causing half the restaurant to gape at him.  
Red to the ears, he picked himself up and made his way to the table.  
“Hey, man. You ok?” the cause of his embarrassment asked kindly in a gruff voice that did nothing to lessen the blush.  
“I’m fine. Just.. tripped. Very embarrassing,” Castiel managed, dropping their menus on the table and making himself scarce, internally cussing himself out.

oooOooo

The restaurant was cozy, but not too plushy. It wasn’t too darkly furbished. The furniture and bar at the one side was all made of a light, glossy coated pine, and the walls were a soft but warm yellow.  
Dean thought it a nice change to their usual diner schtick.  
A simply gorgeous man with dark sex-hair and captivating, deep blue eyes, stepped up to them.  
“Good day. May I be of service?” he asked in a friendly, if low tone.  
Dean froze. That voice... it was the aural equivalent of sex, and he could feel it trip all the way down to his abdomen.  
Nervously, he licked his lips, but no words wanted to form.  
His brain simply shut off, as his whole face felt like it was slowly heating up.  
Sam rescued him by asking for a table.  
The waiter smiled and asked them to follow him.  
 _‘Anywhere, anytime man... I will follow,’_ Dean’s treacherous, and lecherous, brain supplied.  
Dean’s blush deepened and he could feel it crawl up to his ears.  
Damnit!

The living dream turned around and walked off, giving Dean a perfect view of the way those navy blue slacks fit around his butt.  
“Dean...” Sam called, snapping his fingers in front of Dean’s nose.  
“What?” Dean growled, annoyed that he could be so easily mesmerised.  
With a knowing smile, Sam leaned back.  
“I asked you how your project for Ben is going,” he smirked.  
Now that was a perfect distraction from the waiter, who was chatting with a guy with mischievous eyes and an equally mischievous grin.  
Dean loved talking about the surprise he was making for Lisa’s boy. Ben was like a son to him, and he loved the kid.

“It’s going great. I finally found a way to lessen the compound weight. Who knew building a remote controlled airplane from scratch, could be such a challenge?”  
Curious, because he was just such an egghead, Sam leaned in.  
“Yeah? How’d you lighten the load?” he wanted to know.  
Proud of himself, Dean leaned back and crossed his arms.  
“Balsa wood,” he stated.  
Sam blinked, then frowned. “Whatsum wood?”  
Not believing Sam didn’t know about the super light, easily modelled wood, Dean raised his voice slightly and repeated: “Balsa.”

In the path to their table, their waiter suddenly dropped down, menus clutched to his chest.  
To Dean, it looked like he’d tried to duck for cover, but maybe he was reading too much into it.  
That was just his second nature, he guessed.  
The guy picked himself up, blush colouring his cheeks, and he made his way over.  
Concerned the guy might be hurt, Dean asked him if he was ok.  
The blush on the man’s cheeks got darker and he grumbled out they he was fine, if embarrassed.  
Taking in the slightly hunched way he held himself, Dean concluded he was internally ripping himself a new one.  
But before he could comment that it happened to the best, the man abruptly turned and walked off, shoulders stiff and jaws twitching in annoyance.


	5. Chapter 5

As soon as he got to the kitchen, Gabriel was on him.  
“Castiel... are you ok, baby bro?” the 5’7” ball of energy asked urgently.  
Rubbing his eyes with one hand, Castiel sighed.  
“Yeah... it’s an instinctive reaction to a single word. I’m fine,” he muttered, trying to fight off the headache starting to form.  
Gabriel stared at him, eyes narrowed and lips pursed.  
“Instinctive? What are you on about, bucko?”  
Castiel sighed and leaned on the counter.  
“It’s from my time abroad. The word that guy said... it’s an innocent enough word here, but in Korean, it is the last one in a sequel of words that is similar to our ‘ready, aim, fire’. So I dropped.”  
Gabriel bit his lip, golden eyes worried.  
“Boy... you have issues, baby bro. Sometimes you act like you’re severely shell-shocked. I still hate Dad for kicking you out.”  
Scoffing, Castiel straightened from his hunch.  
“Don’t. It’s happened, and I survived. I made my way in the world. As chong kwan jang Ryu Kyung always said: learn from the past, but do not dwell there. It slows one down.”

Gabriel shook his head with a sad air.  
“You’re an odd duck, Cassiebear. I didn’t understand half of that, and I still wonder what nightmares you encountered in the East.”  
Castiel sent his brother a slanted smirk.  
“Best you don’t know, Gabriel. Some things are private. But, just FYI... not that many nightmares. Lots of learning experiences.”  
Sending him a scathing glare, Gabriel crossed his arms.  
“At times you act like a frikken ninja, Cassie. And then some. Don’t tell me it was all cupcakes and rainbows. Reacting like that to the Chinese, Japanese or whatever, equivalent of ‘fire’ isn’t healthy brother.” he intoned crossly.  
Raising one eyebrow, Castiel looked down on his older brother.  
“It was Korean. Literally it means ‘launch’, but it gets used for ‘fire’ too.”   
He rolled his shoulders and his neck.   
“I’m going to see if they are ready to order. Jar ga, Gabriel,” he shot as he let the kitchen.  
“Cassie! I don’t know what that means! What does that mean?!” Gabriel yelled after him.  
Castiel regally ignored him.

oooOooo

Sam seemed to enjoy his salmon on a bed of spinach, and Dean loved his steak with steakhouse fries and a side of goats cheese salad (which he’d surreptitiously pushed over to Sam.)  
Their waiter popped by every now and then, and Dean had difficulty concentrating on the conversation whenever that happened.  
That guy oozed danger, along with an adorable innocence and yet also a ‘come get me’ vibe.  
It was puzzling, and very, very alluring.  
“So get this... There’s this new girl in class, Eileen. She’s deaf,” Sam said, spearing some more leaves on his fork.  
Dean didn’t pay attention, seeing their waiter had just walked by again, showing off his butt wonderfully when he bent over a table to straighten a tablecloth.  
A sharp kick to the shin snapped Dean out of his ogling.  
“What?” he hissed irritably.  
Sam gave him his best bitchface.  
“Dude! You are not paying attention! I just told you I got plans to help raise the money to pay back Bobby for helping us with our studies.”

Impressed, Dean turned his full attention to his little brother.  
“Really? Tell me more!” he enthused.  
Sam’s eyes twinkled and a smile tugged at his mouth, popping up a dimple.  
“I got a job. I’m gonna strip at this club. ‘S called..”  
The murderous glare Dean sent, stopped him.  
“Tell me you’re kidding, Samuel William...” Dean growled low.  
Sam burst out laughing.  
“Of course I was, you idiot! But you were so caught up in the waiter’s butt, I totally could’ve said that... No. There’s this new girl in class, Eileen, and she’s deaf. She offered to teach me ASL a while back. I’m not yet fluent, but getting there fast. She said I was pretty good with my hands, and that I should translate. It seems there’s a market for that.”

Dean relaxed and sighed. “You feel ok with that?” he asked.  
The radiant smile on his brother’s face said enough.  
He bit his lip in thought.  
He knew he had it covered, no matter the costs, but Sammy wasn’t to know.  
“How about you change studies? I know law is boring your pants off, no matter how much you’re trying to hide it. You haven’t been this enthusiastic since your first month at college.”  
Sam blinked a few times, processing what his brother offered.  
“But Dean... Then all the money for the first few years is gone!” he objected.  
Dean sighed. This was not going to be easy.  
“Is not, Sam. You learned lots, and you learned that this is not you. So, why not? We can handle this. Learn your ASL, get a teaching degree, go teach. I heard teachers are never done studying.”  
Sam lit up, his eyes shining, his smile radiant.  
“You mean that? Really? Geez! Thanks Dee!” he babbled, and suddenly lunged over the table to pull Dean into an awkward bearhug.  
“Yeah, Yeah... enough with the chick-flick moment, Sammy. Eat up,” Dean grumbled, but in his heart he was happy to have made Sam this touchy-feely.

When Sam let go, Dean caught sight of their waiter staring at them, his cerulean eyes wide.  
Embarrassed, Dean adjusted his napkin.  
“Sorry about that,” he muttered. “The guy turns into a frikken Huggy Bear when he’s happy.”  
The waiter licked his pink, chapped lips and nodded.  
“I see,” he answered in that silk over gravel voice. “Must be something special you told him.”  
From the corner of his eye, Dean saw Sam, glowing happily.   
“Yeah. It’s gonna change your life, isn’t it, Sammy?”  
Sam smiled at him, all teeth and dimples.   
“Sure is, Dee, sure is!” he agreed.  
The waiter blinked, and somehow Dean thought he looked dejected all of a sudden.  
“That’s great. Really. I hope the change is a lasting and happy one,” he said and turned away again.

Their dinner got a very different vibe, once Sam got over the money issue.  
“I got this Sam. Don’t worry. I can save up as usual, and instead of paying Bobby, I pay school. I’m sure that can be arranged,” Dean had reassured him. “Lets get dessert too! Special day, so we deserve to celebrate!”  
Sam smiled the whole time, and the happy blush stayed in place.  
When their waiter came back to ask if everything was in order, Sam smiled up at him and asked for the dessert menu.  
The waiter licked his lips again (Damnit why was that so distracting?) and nodded curtly with a quiet “Of course, sir. Right away.”  
It sent tingles down Dean’s spine.

The pie and puffy, poofy soufflé for Sam, were excellent.  
Dean gladly paid the, admittedly higher than expected, bill, and added a generous tip for their waiter.  
The man opened the folder with the receipt and his blue eyes widened at the tip.  
“Thank you kindly, sirs! I do hope we will see you again one day.”  
Dean looked up at him, and smiled.  
“I’m sure you will. The meal was awesome, especially the pie. Compliments to the chef.”  
The waiter did a very soft double take when their eyes locked, but rallied almost at once.  
“Thank you sir, I will convey your compliments. Have a nice night.”  
After that, he turned and made his way back to the kitchen as if he’d smelled something burning.  
“Huh,” breathed Sam. “guess he wanted to do that immediately.”  
Dean just stared at where the door had shut behind the man’s attractive behind.  
“Guess he did...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation Korean-English:  
> Jar ga - see you (later)


	6. Chapter 6

His thoughts were scattered since last Saturday, and now he was perched in a tree, waiting for the low-life that had been scamming poor old people out of their hard earned savings, even going as far as blackmailing them.  
In the back of his head, he was hoping this was going to be as easy as Atron, but he was also hoping to see a certain silhouette again.  
His watch beeped once. His associate was en route with their target.  
He scanned the area with his thermal goggles, but all he saw was the tiny specks of the local wildlife.  
Somewhat disappointed, he tugged his goggles up to perch on his head.

Technology was wonderful, but he still liked to use his own senses.  
There was something going on. A tension in the air.  
He rolled his shoulders and looked around.  
Nothing stood out, but his gut objected.  
The lights in the cottage flicked on, and he knew he was on a time crunch now.  
He shoved his unease to the back burner and concentrated on his target.  
The silhouettes of target and associate moved in front of the window and it looked like they were having fun.  
At least his associate got to drink champagne tonight.  
Atron had been too much of a tight-fished bastard to pony up for that.  
When the shadow behind the curtain moved a hand towards their neck, he tensed.  
If it was what he suspected, he would have to act...

Suddenly he got pushed against the trunk, a strong, black-clad arm against his esophagus.   
“So. You’re here too, huh?” a voice hissed low in his ear, muffled by a black balaclava.   
He tried to gulp, but the arm effectively blocked his larynx.  
“I recognised her, you know. What’s the deal here? She hooks up, you kill them for fun?”  
He moved his head from side to side.  
“No,” he croaked out, his own voice distorted by his facial mask too.  
The pressure lessened and he could swallow.  
Now the need to breathe properly became less evident, he could take in his assailant.  
It was the green-eyed man, and a thrilled shiver ran through him.

“No? Then what? You tell me, buster, or I swear...” that voice ground out, too low to hear any intonations or other characteristics properly.  
“I’m an assassin,” he admitted, voice raw from the choke hold. “But I only take cases where the target is the scum of the Earth. Like Atron. And this cockroach. My associate chats them up, gets them to sign a ‘cheque’ which is actually a notarised confession of their crimes and a will that leaves their fortune to their victims. I kill them, because they do not deserve the chance to buy their way out, and we drop evidence and confession off at the police.”  
The green eyes softened slightly and approval appeared in them.  
It emboldened him, and he smirked in his mask.  
“And you, Cat-eyes? Why are you here?”

oooOooo

Seeing the same lady that had been visiting Atron, he decided to do an extra sweep of the terrain, using his night-vision.  
Sure enough, he spotted a featherless bird, perched in a pine, about 80 yards from the house.  
His lips quirked in a sardonic smile, and he took the long route towards the dark-clad figure, making double sure he didn’t make any human noises.  
No noise was not an option. A patch of no noise, moving about, was conspicuous. So he rustled a leaf here, brushed a twig there, and he got closer.  
Close enough to grab the guy, because that tight, black outfit left no doubt about that, and press him to the trunk.

He brought his mouth right next to the man’s face and hissed his questions in his ear.  
The guy tried to gulp, but couldn’t because of the arm pressing on his Adams-apple.  
He was impressed by the croaked “no” the guy managed.  
Letting up on the pressure, he demanded to know what then. If this was a pro, he might be in serious shit.  
The lanky, yet muscular, guy’s answer threw him for a loop. An assassin, like him, except he was a vigilante, who happened to get paid for certain jobs.  
The mischievous twinkle in the man’s eyes played merry hell with his guts.  
“And you, Cat-eyes? Why are you here?” came the question.

“Cat-eyes? How do you...”   
The man crinkled up the sides of his eyes, indicating he was grinning like mad under his mask.  
“The flare from your magnesium explosive last time. I saw that your eyes are green. Best to not know your name, but I think I can live with giving you a nickname.”  
Damnit! He’d have to find a way to dampen that flare, or else he might get recognised by someone less... nice.   
He inhaled deeply through his nose, catching the scent of pine, and an undertone of something subtle, like an ocean breeze.  
It made a tingle that slid down next to the tingles caused by the man’s eyes, his lanky body and just his general being.

Two soft beeps sounded, distracting both men.  
“That’s my signal. He is ready for the picking. You wanna do the honours? I stole Atron from you. Consider this payback,” the guy ground out in that raw voice.  
Guilt tripped along his spine.  
“Sure. Thanks... and... sorry for the voice,” he apologised, taking the gun.  
A soft huff. Maybe a laugh?  
“That’s ok. It’ll be gone by morning. You didn’t push too hard.”  
He cocked the gun, aimed and squeezed the trigger.  
The target twitched slightly in his chair, and he knew that the guy was dead before the twitch ended.

“Nice shot. I’d have gone for the back. Just in that gap between the rods here? Instant kill,” that raw voice whispered.  
His throat ached in sympathy. “Yeah... neck-shot is less chance to fail, in my opinion,” he answered, lowering the gun.  
“Mighty fine weapon. Thanks for lending it to me,” he quipped and handed it back to its owner.  
He patted the man on his firm shoulder and dropped almost soundlessly.  
“See ya.”

oooOoo

The shot was good. Clean and fatal. Not his choice, but it got the job done nicely.  
Maybe Cat-eyes was right, and he did overthink his actions too much.  
He watched as the taller man slipped from their perch and landed with just enough noise to blend in with the background.  
Reluctantly, he admired the man. Cat-eyes must have had extensive training somewhere.  
He wondered whether it was here, or abroad.

He packed his stuff and swiftly made his way to the car, where his associate would be waiting.  
Just as he entered the tree-line at the road, his watch beeped thrice.  
“Huh... there you are, Clarence. That’s twice you’re later than me. What’s cooking?” his associate drawled, her blood-red lips twisted in a smirk.  
Pulling off his mask, he blew out his breath.  
“Nothing special, Meg. Just had to make sure the neck-shot worked,” he answered, pulling a hand through his short hair.

“Neck-shot? Really? Not quite your style, Clarence...” Meg offered.  
He shot her a glance. She looked sincerely curious.  
“Yes, well, I thought I’d go for the easy one this time. There is a certain beauty in simplicity, wouldn’t you say?”  
Meg huffed and shook her dark curls.  
“Getting philosophical, Clarence? I told you two within a month was too much,” she stated, staring out of the window.  
He glanced at her again. She looked unperturbed, but he knew her better than that.  
“Then Bartholomew would have walked. He had emigration plans, Meg. The guy that drove your grandfather to suicide and your grandmother to death by a broken heart, would’ve been Scott free. I couldn’t let that happen,” he said low, patting her knee.

She blinked at his hand, then gave him a smile.  
“I know, Clarence. You’re too soft to do that. Shit...”  
She suddenly slumped and pulled out a flask of some kind of alcoholic drink.  
He knew she needed the drink, so he let her be.  
After a while, and approximately three quarters of the flask, she spoke up again.  
“D’you ever miss the old days, Clarence? ‘T was all sooo easy then. I was bad, you were good. It was much simpler. Now... I’m kinda good, which sucks, and you’re kinda bad... which is actually all manner of hot...”  
He wanted to smile, but couldn’t. He was too upset, and somewhat sad, she was hurting and smiling just wasn’t an option now.  
“Meg... you’re drunk, sweetheart,” he tried, but she looked up from where his hand was resting on her knee with tears in her dark eyes.  
“And I can feel this is ending, Clarence,” Meg choked out. “I can feel it. Something is gonna rip up this paper dream we have here...”

He could scoff, he could wave it off, but his instincts were telling him too.  
“I’m sorry, Meg,” he whispered.  
Meg broke off her next swig of booze, swallowing a laugh, but it had a bitter tinge.  
“Don’t be, angel. It’s only natural. Things move on. At least tell me you’ll remember everything.”  
His heart softened and nostalgia took root.  
“If you’re referring to the ‘pizza man’, yes I will. It’s a good memory. I won’t forget that,” he answered softly.  
Her mouth curled up. “Even though you didn’t want to take it further, and move some furniture around?”  
He actually smiled now. It was soft, and small, but it was a smile.  
“Yes. It was my first kiss, and I will cherish it.”  
Her eyebrows danced suggestively.  
“I was your first? Clarence! You do know how to make a girl’s nethers quiver...”  
That did it. He burst out laughing, Meg following suit.  
She raised the flask at him. “Here’s to us. With all the good we did... we’re going to Heaven, Clarence!”

He sobered and a nostalgic sadness crawled in where his happiness had been.  
“We’re not done yet, Meg. Let’s make the most of it for however long we got.”  
She stared at him, that sardonic smirk that always hid her most vulnerable feelings in place.  
“Let’s do that!” she agreed.  
He sighed as the edge of town drew nearer.   
“First we’re getting pizza. You’ll need something to throw up tomorrow,” he said with a smile.  
Meg sighed dramatically. “You angel you. Always caring for lil’ol’ me...”  
They found an open all night pizza place and indulged on two pies. One Diavola, one Bianca.  
They shared.


	7. Chapter 7

It was raining, and it just didn’t stop.  
The morning had started over an hour early because of one of the loudest thunderclaps Dean had ever heard in his whole life .  
The windows had shuddered in their frames, and Sam had been in his room in seconds, looking disheveled and worried.  
“Dee... you ok?” he’d asked in a small voice.  
God, did he love that big softie!  
Sam knew that ever since the lightning storm that had struck their house and caused the fire that took their mom, Dean was more than a little uncomfortable whenever thunder sounded.

Dean had assured him he was ok, and he’d even braved the flashes and rumbles to bring Sammy to KU.  
In the meantime, Bobby had texted him, assuring him he was excused from work today.  
Bobby knew as well as Sam how Dean reacted to thunder and lightning.  
Even though Dean’d been doing better each year.  
He didn’t go into panic-attacks anymore, but he was still very careful about being safe during a storm.  
But now he’d dropped Sam off, and Bobby didn’t expect him at the shop.  
Yet Dean didn’t want to be alone. Talking to someone always helped keep his calm.

He passed the restaurant with the sexy waiter, and suddenly it seemed a good idea to go get an elaborate brunch.  
He carefully parked Baby, pulled his leather jacket over his head and dashed to the restaurant.  
“Hello again, sir.”  
That voice... he bit his lip not to moan at it.  
“Hello. Do you happen to have a spot for me? I... I kinda don’t wanna go home right now.”  
Fuck! Why did he say that?  
Those blue eyes took him in, from his wet boots to his ruffled hair.  
“Of course, sir. Shall I ready a table, or would you like to sit at the bar?”

The bar was right next to the kitchen, which meant he would be close to this blue-eyed cutie.  
Nervously, he cleared his throat.  
“The bar will be fine. Thank you,” he said low, looking up through his lashes.  
The waiter looked like he had a bad night too.  
There were bags under his eyes, and lines around his mouth.  
“Very well, if you pick a seat, I will bring you a menu.”  
Even his voice sounded flat with fatigue, and Dean fought with his desire to give the guy a hug.  
He followed the man with his eyes, then picked the seat closest to the kitchen doors.  
Every time the man would walk to or from the kitchen, he’d pass Dean.

The lunch menu was as nice as the dinner one, and Dean quickly picked out a meal.  
“Have you made your choice, sir?” came the gravelly voice.  
Dean licked his lips, trying to keep from blushing, and/or popping a boner.  
“Ehm, yeah. I’d like a Philly cheesesteak, with the works, a large order of fries, and a large black coffee. Do you serve pie yet?” he rattled out in one go.  
The waiter chuckled and some of his weariness seemed to melt away.  
“Of course we do, sir,” he answered, before being rudely interrupted by the golden eyed guy he’d been talking to the last time.  
“If you dare to tell him no, bucko, I’m stuffing you into a crust! Pie is a staple food, and henceforth an all day thing.”  
The waiter rolled his eyes and went to greet a new guest.

Dean chuckled low, and grinned at the other guy.  
“You should tell that to my little brother! He’d demand a salad every meal, if he could.”  
The, surprisingly short, man grinned back, golden eyes scrunched up and twinkling.  
“You got a brother, hot-stuff? Is he as cute as you, cause I might just swoon,” he dramatically asked, one hand on his chest in faux admiration.  
The waiter rolled his deep blue eyes and walked off, muttering to himself.  
Dean smirked at the smaller man.  
“I dunno. He is even taller than I. You might’ve seen him the other day. We were here together.”

The man licked his lips and a shrewd expression flicked across his boyish face.  
“The moose-man? That’s your little brother? Holy _Chupa Chups_. I thought you were like... an item.”  
Dean chortled. “Yeah, we get that a lot. It’s cause we’re close, even for brothers. But the mere thought...” He shuddered.  
The man pouted and nodded.  
“I know that one. My bro and I get the same thing, but that’s because I’m touch-affectionate, and my baby bro isn’t, so he grumbles about it _all_ the time.... Isn’t that right, baby bro?” he quickly asked the waiter as he tried to slip past them.  
The ‘baby bro’, who was a full four inches taller, glared at him.  
“Shut up, Gabriel, and get to work. That Philly cheesesteak isn’t even started, and I have mr. Turner waiting on his kosher fish.”

Gabriel cussed low and excused himself to ‘go make some nosh’ as he put it.  
His brother gave his retreating back a soft smile, which Dean loved.  
“He is quite the chatterbox. I’m sorry if he bothered you, sir,” the dark-haired man said, turning back to Dean.  
With his own smile still lurking around the corners of his mouth, Dean waved it off.  
“That’s ok. He’s just a social type. I get it. Oh, by the way... my name is Dean. Sir...” he shuddered again. “It’s like you’re addressing my father.”  
The man’s smile grew and he nodded in assent.  
“Very well then, Dean. I will try and get Gabriel’s butt in gear, so you will get your order promptly.”

He turned to go, when the doors opened and a young man dashed in.  
He threw himself around the waiter’s waist with a delighted cry of: “Kaseuti el hyung!”  
The waiter widened his eyes, and his whole being lit up.  
“Ryu Kwang-Sun?! Neo yeogiseo mwohago issni? Ne abeojido yeogi issni?” he asked, fluently lapsing into whatever language the boy used.  
The door opened again and an older man calmly entered.  
The waiter bowed deep, pressing his fisted right hand against his flat left hand.  
“Chong kwan jang Ryu Kyung! Hwan-yeong.” 

Impressed, and slightly turned on, Dean watched as the older man bowed back slightly less deep, smiled warmly and pulled the waiter into a hug.  
“Kaseuti el... We have come to visit. My heart is glad to see you do well.”  
Gabriel came to check what all the commotion was about, and he frowned.  
“Who’s the mr. Miyagi, bro?” he asked in a suspicious tone.  
The waiter straightened and Dean gasped slightly.  
His smile was gummy and warm, and a whole flock of butterflies did a frikken breakdance in Dean’s stomach.  
“These are my guests, Gabriel. Would you mind if I take a break to get them settled. I will explain everything after hours.”  
Gabriel sighed, but waved him off, ruining Dean’s day in one gesture.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations Korean-English:
> 
> Hyung - honorific, given to older males (brothers, cousins, friends) by men  
> Neo yeogiseo mwohago issni? - What are you doing here?  
> Ne abeojido yeogi issni? - Is your father here too?
> 
> Chong kwan jang - rank in the South Korean sport Hap-ki do  
> Hwan-yeong - Welcome


	8. Chapter 8

The joy on his brothers face when the Asian kid hugged him was obvious, but Gabriel was still suspicious. He’d tried to ignore it, but now Cassie was gone on break to settle them in, his mind was shifting with theories.  
To distract him, he cooked Rufus the Grump his fish, and Dean, as the green-eyed stud-muffin called himself, his Philly cheesesteak.  
Seeing Castiel was still gone when the orders were done, Gabriel took them out himself.  
Rufus Turner smiled up at him as he put the plate of exquisite ‘gefillter fisch’ in front of the man.  
“Well now. Served by the chef himself. What happened to your brother, boy?”  
Gabriel just said Cassie was on break. He wouldn’t spill private info just like that.

The Philly cheesesteak got a lustful look, then Gabriel got a slightly disappointed one.  
“Something wrong, Dean-o?” Gabriel smirked.  
“It’s just... I thought your brother served,” Dean admitted, blushing adorably.  
That figured... Well, maybe he still had a shot with the moose-man. Dean’s little bro was much cuter anyway.  
“Sorry, bucko. He got visitors from outta town he had to help settle in. On the bright side... you can tell me in person how awesome my cheesesteak is.”

Dean smiled ruefully and took a big bite.  
The sound he made was almost pornographic, and it had two amazing side effects.  
One: it told Gabriel exactly how good Dean thought his cooking was, and two: it made Castiel, who just came back, blush like a schoolgirl.  
“Ohhhmmmmnnnmmmm! ‘S good... soooo good!” Dean moaned, green eyes closed, totally unaware of his surroundings and the effect he had on them.

Cassie, still beet-red, dashed to the kitchen, dropping his tan trench-coat carelessly on a stool.  
Smirking silently to himself, Gabriel unwrapped a lollipop and put it in his mouth.  
_‘Well, well, well... isn’t THAT interesting... seems Cassie-bean has a little crush. Maybe I should help them,’_ he thought, sucking the cherry flavoured sweet with relish.  
Pondering the possibility of Dean and Cassie as an item, Gabriel twirled his lollipop around with a smirk.  
“Gotta get back in there, Dean-o. I’ll send Castiel out when he’s back,” he stated casually, smirking all the while.  
When Dean’s head shot up with a hopeful glint in his eyes, Gabriel mentally highfived himself.

oooOooo

Having his Hap-ki-do teacher and his son visit, surprised Castiel to no end. They had to have saved up a lot of money to just come over on a whim.  
He’d insisted they stay at his and Gabriel’s place, because he knew getting a hotel would probably break their bank,  
It had been this teacher, who had taken him in from the streets of Goyang, South Korea, that had taught him everything he now used in his, secret, second job.  
He fondly remembered Kwang-Sun lobbing water-balloons whenever master Kyung called out at irregular intervals “Chong! Jojun! Balsa!”

It had been a fun game, and it got more fun when master Kyung ordered his son to always carry a little bag of water-balloons and would suddenly shout out: “Chong!”, making Castiel search out the threat.  
Then, any varying amount of time later, it would be: “Jojun!”, telling him he’d better hurry and find Kwang-Sun.  
As time passed, the “Balsa!” got shouted less and less, so master Kyung upped the ante, by bypassing the first word.  
And later the second one as well, making Castiel drop at any given time he heard the word louder than conversationally.  
Hence that utterly embarrassing moment at the restaurant with the green-eyed man, Dean, and his date, now probably fiancée, considering the hugging and teary eyed looks the giant had given Dean.  
His stomach started churning, recalling that moment.

With a heavy sigh he pushed open the door to the restaurant and walked in on Dean moaning like he was having a very private moment.  
It shot through him like an arrow and he was sure he would catch fire with how fast his blush rushed up.  
And not only his blush... he quickly dropped his coat on the nearest stool, and dashed to the kitchen, certain no-one had seen him.

Gabriel came sauntering into the kitchen not much later, one of his eternal lollipops in his mouth, and a grin around it.  
“Hey there, baby bro! You settle them in ok?” he casually asked, popping his hairnet back on.  
Not trusting Gabriel’s nonchalance, Castiel narrowed his eyes.  
“Yes, they are very happy with the guest room.” he answered.  
His brother widened his golden eyes in shock.  
“Wait, what? Did I hear that correctly? You set them up in our home? What’s wrong with a hotel?” he demanded to know indignantly.

“Gabriel, be reasonable. They are not well off, and a hotel would dry up their savings. It must’ve cost them a fortune to get here in the first place. Master Ryu Kyung and his son took me in when I was lost and homeless, and didn’t even speak the language. One of Ryu Kwang-Sun’s friends, who was pretty fluent in English, helped me out. Should I repay their kindness and generosity with coldhearted indifference?” Castiel wanted to know, temper rising.  
At least Gabriel had the decency to look abashed and scolded.  
“I’m sorry, Cassie. I didn’t know. Of course they can stay. As long as they wanna. We’ll figure it out!” he apologised.  
Giving his brother a quick hug, Castiel smiled a closed-lipped smile.  
“That’s ok, Gabriel. I have some savings. We’ll be fine,” he assured his annoying, but above all loving and kindhearted brother.  
“Neat!” Gabriel replied. “Now, go apologise to that hunk of man meat out there, or he might not bring his cute, baby brother next time.”  
Brother? Baby brother? That was the best news of the day!  
“You mean....” he wavered, not daring to believe.  
Gabriel grinned widely.  
“Yup, that tall moose-man is his little brother. I still got a chance!”

oooOooo

Dean enjoyed his early lunch immensely, even more so when his waiter, Castiel as Gabriel had kindly let slip, returned.  
“I am sorry to have left you, Dean. I suddenly had visitors from out of town. I didn’t know they were even considering coming over,” Castiel apologised in that sexy voice.  
Still enjoying the aftertaste of that spectacular sandwich, Dean smiled.  
“Nah, don’t worry about it, Cas. Your brother picked up the slack. We’re cool.”  
Cas did a head-tilt Dean did absolutely, definitely not find adorable, nuh-uh. Nope. Certainly not.  
“Cas? How did you...” he asked, voice petering out.

Damn his mouth, running away because his head was thinking sexy thoughts.  
“I eh... your brother told me your name, and I... ehm... I tend to shorten names?” Dean stuttered out.  
Fuck, fuck, double fuck! He sounded so lame and insecure right now.  
Blinking those amazing eyes, Cas just stared at him, and he couldn’t break free.  
It was like staring at the deep blue ocean.  
Dean felt he was drowning, but still kept staring.  
On the other hand, Cas wasn’t looking away either...  
A rough cough snapped the tension like a cobweb, and Dean missed it already.  
Cas turned around at the dark-skinned older man, who was standing right behind Dean.

“Mr. Turner! I hope your lunch was satisfactory. I am sorry I was gone for a while,” he said with a professional smile.  
Rufus Turner, incorrigible, nosy sourpuss and old friend of Bobby’s, actually smiled back.  
“It was fine, as usual. And don’t you worry about it. You got the right to take breaks, boy. Thank your brother for me, ok? I gotta go. Visit an old friend,” he rumbled.  
Was it Dean’s imagination, or did Rufus glance at him when he said that?  
_‘Whatever. He can tell Bobby I’m making goo-goo eyes at a guy. Bobby knows I’m an equal opportunity lover. Heck, he even helped me suss it out when I got that crush on Aaron,’_ Dean thought, not caring either way.  
Rufus paid Cas right there, muttering about not wanting to go back to his booth anyway.

When Cas swooped past with Rufus’ dishes, Dean caught a glance of something black shimmering through the white button-up sleeves.  
It made him gulp down a swiftly climbing arousal.  
Tattoos. Dean loved tattoos.  
He couldn’t help but wonder what they were, and his imagination ran wild with it.  
The black seemed to cover both arms equally, so they could be symmetric tats, or one big back piece...

His mind definitely did not imagine Cas without that shirt, showing Dean the art on his back.  
Thinking of Bobby in a man-kini dissolved the rising problem in his jeans, but now his mind didn’t want to leave the station of sexy back tats on equally hot waiters. He had to get out of there.  
He signalled Cas, licking his lips as those cerulean eyes caught his again.  
After what seemed like an entire conversation with their eyes, Dean cleared his throat.  
“I... I gotta go, Cas... But I’m certainly gonna come more often,” he hastened to assure the guy.  
Again Cas did that head tilt, making Little Dean wanting to show his appreciation, and twitch.  
“We would surely love to have you again, Dean,” Cas said innocently.  
Yeah. Ok. That definitely was his cue!  
Dean paid his tab and hightailed it out of there, before he’d make a fool of himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation Korean-English:
> 
> Chong - ready  
> Jojun - aim  
> Balsa - fire (litt. Launch)


	9. Chapter 9

Sam wheedled another meal at the restaurant out of Dean.  
He’d seen the chef, briefly, when their waiter had talked to him through the hatch, and he felt some attraction there.  
Then Dean mentioned one rain-soaked brunch there, where he got to actually talk to the guy, who apparently was called Gabriel.  
Sam really wanted to talk to him too. He seemed like a fun guy,

Yet Dean seemed unwilling to go, stubbornly claiming low funds for a over week past payday.  
“Please, Dean. I loved their salad! Please! I really wanted to try the couscous with chickpeas,” he whined, turning the pleading eyes up a notch.  
Sam knew Dean would cave eventually, he just had to keep up the puppy eyes long enough.  
With a harsh wave, Dean gave in.  
“Fine,” he snapped. “We’ll get your freaky foreign stuff. I’m glad Gabe has normal food on the menu too!”  
He grabbed his jacket and keys to Baby. “C’mon then, Sasquatch! Time’s a waisting and I want some red meat... and pie!”

“Hey, Dean-o! You’re back! And you brought your brother again! Welcome!” Gabriel greeted them warmly.  
Trying not to blush, Sam looked at the guy through his hair.  
He was cute, bouncy, unconventionally sexy, and triggered all of Sam’s protection buttons.  
“Hi, Gabe! Yeah, the veggisaurus made me come back with him. He wanted to try the whatchamacallit with thingies,” Dean groused good-naturedly.  
Sam rolled his fox-like eyes and shoved his brother.  
“Couscous with chickpeas, and I bet there is more to it than just that,” he corrected Dean before smiling at Gabriel again, loving the way those golden eyes crinkled with mirth at their banter.  
“Am I right, Gabriel?” he sweetly asked.  
Gabriel grinned and Sam’s stomach swooped up to where his heart started beating a loud tattoo against his ribs.

“You got me at a disadvantage, moose-man. You seem to know my name, but I sure as Hell don’t know yours,” Gabriel stated, golden eyes roaming all over Sam.  
Ignoring the butterflies in his stomach, Sam held out his hand.  
“Sam Winchester. Pleased to meet you,” he politely said.  
Gabriel’s hand was warm and firm in his, as they shook.  
“Gabriel Novak. Pleasure is all mine, Sammoose,” the man replied with a smirk that made Sam want to do inappropriate things.  
“And you’re right, of course. There’s couscous and chickpeas, but also cilantro, tomatoes, grilled chicken and lime-juice. Think you can handle that, big boy?” Gabriel teased, eyebrows dancing lewdly.  
Sam chortled, especially as Dean’s face grew more and more disgusted with each thing Gabriel mentioned.  
“The only thing I can’t handle might be how great that is gonna taste. It sounds delicious!” Sam grinned, as Dean shuddered.  
“I’ll bring that right up, Samosa. The steak for you, Cro-Magnon man?” Gabriel queried, tilting his head a little.  
Dean grunted assent and Gabriel showed them their table.

oooOooo

Dean had successfully avoided the restaurant ever since that washed-up brunch.  
Sam had been nagging him to go, but he’d been adamant.  
Until the conniving bitch turned on those puppy-dog eyes that was.  
So, he got them to the restaurant, praying to the Almighty Gods of Pie that he could get through dinner without creeping the sexy waiter out.  
To his surprise, Gabriel was waiting at the door, dressed to the T in a burgundy suit and slicked back hair.  
He greeted them jovially, sincerely glad to seen them.  
Dean made a show of grumbling about coming, just to annoy Sam.  
He knew Sammy wanted the couscous with chickpeas. Of course he did. What didn’t he know about the kid?  
He just loved to yank his chain at times.

Sam turned to Gabriel for support, the low-life. And Gabriel... was he flirting with Sam? And was Sam flirting right back?  
The idea took root, and Dean felt his good mood slip a little a time.  
He imagined them getting along, then minimising their personal space, then hugging, cuddling and finally the kissing had him shudder.  
It seemed the two flirty Francesses had finished talking, because Gabriel tilted his head, (and damnit if it didn’t remind Dean of Cas) and asked if Dean would like steak.  
Grumbling he answered in affirmative and followed Gabe to a table.

“I will be back swiftly with that couscous and steak, Samster. Make sure Dean-o doesn’t burn holes in our table with that glare,” Gabriel quipped, and was blessedly gone.  
Sam kicked Dean in the shin, the bastard.  
“What’s wrong with you? You look like you want to kill someone. Preferably now,” Sam hissed low, frowning.  
Dean glared at him, then suddenly burst out laughing.  
“Believe me, Sam. If I wanted to kill, I would go out and do it. Not sit here and stew,” he snarked.  
Sam looked shocked and pulled his hand back from where it had lain on Dean’s arm.  
“If I didn’t know better... I’d think you meant that,” he stammered, white as a sheet.  
‘ _Crap...’_ Dean mentally kicked himself in the nuts _‘...watch your stupid mouth, moron! Sam is unaware, and it’s best if he stays that way. Diffuse this, idiot!’_

“I’m sorry, Sammy. I just... I shouldn’t take out my bad mood on you. Let’s just enjoy dinner, huh?” Dean tried.  
Sam shot him a distrustful glance, but relaxed marginally, just in time too.  
Gabe was coming at them with a bread basket, garlic butter and two cold beers.  
“On the house, fellas,” he said, as he placed the items in front of them. “I have Alfie in the back, trying his damnedest, but without Castiel, I’m seriously understaffed. It’s like the guy can teleport.”  
He made an elaborate gesture with his hands and winked.  
“Wait... Cas isn’t here?” Dean latched on.  
Gabe sighed. “Nope. Sorry, bucko. He’s taken some well deserved time off, so I just gotta get through this week... I can manage,” Gabriel bravely stated, only to wince when something clattered to the floor in the kitchen.  
“I hope...” he sighed softly.

“Dude... why not let this Alfie fill in for Castiel then?” Sam wondered aloud, perfectly wording what Dean was thinking.  
Gabriel bit his lip, and Dean caught Sam widening his eyes at it.  
“Frankly... I’m a bit afraid to do that. Alfie can be... blunt. Brutally so. The kid has next to no verbal filter,” Gabriel admitted low.  
Dean closed his eyes resignedly. If he knew anything about his brother, Sam’d...  
“Oh come on. He can’t be that bad,” Sam plead. And there it was.   
“Bring him over. Let him wait on us. Dean’s about as tactful as that ‘Herpexia’ infomercial, so he won’t mind, and I’m used to him...” Sam let the rest hang in the air.  
Gabriel blinked at them, then pouted in thought.  
“If you’re sure...” he wavered.  
Dean sighed deeply and turned his green eyes on Gabe.  
“Oh, he’s sure, man. Just send the kid over. We’re the only ones here right now. Sam can come get you if it gets bad, or if other people are coming in,” he conceded.

Alfie was a gangly boy, young and insecure.  
And Dean knew, as soon as he’d seen him walk up to them nervously, that Sam would motherhen his ass.  
“G..good evening, sirs. I.. I’m your waiter for tonight. My name is Samandriel,” the kid stammered.  
God, did Dean miss Cas already. His swift and easy manners, his calm attitude.  
“Gabriel said your name was Alfie...” he observed sipping his beer.  
The kid blushed and lowered his blue-grey eyes, long lashes almost obscuring them.  
“That’s a nickname. My cousin likes to tease me,” he mumbled softly.  
Sam nodded, sympathy already showing in his hazel eyes.  
“So, you’d rather not be called that...” he tried, earning a cute smile.  
“It’s ok. I think most people will have trouble with my given name. I’m really rather getting used to Alfie,” came the soft reply.

Alfie, under Sam’s gentle coaching, turned out to be a fine waiter   
Gabriel personally came up to thank them, and insist dinner was on him, because Alfie wasn’t the best of chefs, and as a waiter he did much better.  
“You two chuckleheads just saved my restaurant, I swear. Come back soon, I’ll have pecan pie!”  
he called after them as goodbye.  
Dean bumped shoulders with Sam.  
“We did good, little brother! Gabe will love you forever now!” he joked with a sly smirk.  
Sam blushed and shoved his hands in his pockets.  
“Shut up, jerk,” he groused.  
Dean grinned fully, loving the knee-jerk reaction.  
“Make me, bitch,” he shot back.


	10. Chapter 10

It had been a while since the head office had contacted him, but he didn’t mind.  
His second job paid well enough, and he wasn’t a spendthrift, so he had a healthy savings account on the Caymans.  
But a week ago, his phone had rung, and the smarmy voice on the other side had greeted him as usual.  
“Hello, cupcake. We got a case for you. You know the drill, sweet-cheeks. Ta-ta!”  
He never really minded Balthazar’s curt and to the point calls. The guy was generally a hedonistic bitch, but at least he never wasted time.  
So, once again he was seeing the world through night-vision goggles, secretly hoping to see another black-clad figure lurking about.

Meg had given him the heads-up a while ago, and he’d seen her sashaying through the room.  
It meant he had to watch out, mind the time, but still he scanned the area.  
A smirk pulled his lips up under his mask.  
There it was... just a tiny movement, but it looked like... it was. An arm. Once again closer to the victim than he was, but then again: he was an excellent marksman.  
Glancing at Meg, he judged he could take the tiny detour and surprise Cat-eyes, like Cat-eyes had surprised him at Bartholomew’s.  
He slipped from his spot and stealthily made his way around.

He had to admit to himself, he was having fun with this little game between him and Cat-eyes.  
He snuck up on the guy, who was lying on the roof of a tool shed, eyes firmly pressed to his scope.  
Smiling fondly, he crouched down next to what he presumed to be Cat-eyes, and put his hand on the man’s shoulder.  
When the guy jerked up, swinging, he caught the fist with a smile and clapped his hand over the balaclava covered face.  
“Ssssshhhh. You don’t want our target to hear us, now do you?” he whispered.

The eyes in the black face-paint widened impossibly, and the guy, who seemed shorter than he remembered, stared at him in shock.  
Something was off here.  
Carefully, he took his hands off. “Cat-eyes?” he queried.  
Suddenly the man crumbled, burying his head in his hands.  
Yup. Way, way off. This was nothing like the other times.  
It seemed his companion was trembling...  
His heart clenched. What had he done to let the guy break like this?

His watch beeped twice, and he cussed low.  
Cat-eyes didn’t seem to be in any position to act, and he himself was out of place.  
Swiftly he dropped to his belly and pressed his own eye to the scope of the other man’s gun.  
Heat-vision made the view erupt in vivid colours. UGH! But he could cope. He had to.  
At the front of the house, he could hear Meg talk to the cabby, asking him to drop her off at the train station, as agreed.  
He’d have a few minutes to wait. Just so she would have her alibi.  
He glanced at the hunched figure next to him.  
“I don’t know what’s up with you, but get a grip. My associate has him drugged, but there are others about. Stay quiet, and let me handle him. Afterwards, we can talk. We have to, am I right?”  
The other man nodded, not looking up.

Getting the shot in was easy. He got him right in that little dent at the base of his skull.  
Dick Roman was dead before the blood started oozing.  
With swift and measured moves he disassembled the gun, placing the pieces gently on the roof.  
The other had been staring at him ever since he’d squeezed the trigger, following his every move with a mixture of regret and disbelief radiating from him.  
“I’m going to get my own stuff. Wait here. We still need to talk,” he ordered low, and once again the other just nodded.

When he came back, the guy had dropped from the roof and was standing in the shadows, gun case next to his feet.  
Taking the guy in, he bit his lip. There was definitely something off. The last time he’d seen Cat-eyes disappear into the night, he’d guessed him to be his height, maybe taller, but now... he looked significantly shorter than him.  
Plus, the look he got was equal parts hurt and pissed off, and Cas couldn’t fathom what he would have done to deserve that.  
His steps slowed, trying to stall for time, so he could think.  
The other stepped up, grabbed his wrist and dragged him along.

He didn’t have to run to keep up, the guy was that much shorter, but he did hang back, completely puzzled.  
The other pushed open a nondescript door and as soon as they were both inside, he dropped his case and flipped on the lights.  
Cat-eyes’ back, if it was him, was turned on him, and his shoulders were stiff.  
He reached for the shorter man. “Cat-eyes...” he breathed, not the a guest idea how he could have messed up something he wasn’t even sure existed.

The man swirled around and pulled off his balaclava.  
“Cat-eyes, Cassie? What? How did you... no... Nonono. I... fuck!” The man slumped, dropping his chin to his chest.  
Trembling, he sought support at a nearby table, but his legs gave out on him, and he landed heavily on his ass.  
“Gabriel?! What?” He took in the shorter man, not believing his eyes.  
But Gabriel wasn’t Cat-eyes. Gabriel’s eyes were golden, not green.  
He pulled off his own mask.  
Gabriel looked up, eyes glinting like shards of citrine.  
“Is this what that cook taught you, Castiel? Huh? Did he teach you to actually be a ninja?” he snarled.

Castiel bristled at that. This was not what he was taught. It was what he had decided to do.   
“No. He doesn’t know I am what I am. And might I say: you’re a hypocrite! What the Hell were you doing on that roof then, huh?” he growled, realisation that his own brother was an assassin, just like him, finally settling in.  
Gabriel sat down next to him, grasping his honey-blonde hair with both hands.  
“I was so, so glad when you showed up alive, but not roped into the business by our cousins. And now... you are in. Who’s your boss then, Cassie. Who do I have to strangle?”  
Castiel closed his eyes. It seemed he wasn’t the only one from his family in the business.  
“A.N.G.E.L.,” he answered low. “And you?”

Gabriel scoffed, then sighed, turning his golden eyes on his brother.  
“D.E.V.I.L. Fuck... looks like old Mike got his claws in you, while Luci has my number,” he concluded, rubbing his hand over his face.  
Castiel shook his head. “Those anagrams... Do you think they did that on purpose?”  
His watch beeped thrice. He tapped it. Three measured taps, a pause, then one measured, one short, one measured tap.  
Gabriel had been watching him with keen eyes.  
“Cool idea, Morse code on the smartwatch. The anagrams? Of course they did. They’re frikken called Michael and Lucifer. What better way to advertise? What does Mike’s stand for?”  
Giving a wry smirk, Castiel answered.  
“Adversaries. Neatly. Gracefully. Efficiently. Liquidated.”

Gabriel snorted a laugh.  
“Are you fucking kidding me? Goddamn... that is so Michael!” he chuckled.  
Shooting him a glance, Castiel got his wet wipes out and started cleaning his face.  
“What’s Lucifer’s then? Probably as bad, right?” he guessed, handing Gabriel a wipe.  
It got him more chuckles and a grateful smile.  
“Yeah. It totally is. I’m working for: Deadly. Easy. Violent. Inevitable. Layoffs,” Gabriel declared, thoroughly removing the black make-up from his face.  
“And we mostly have family employed, just like your side. We have Uriel, Zachariah, Daniel, Amina, Anael, and of course Lucifer at the top.”  
Hearing those names, Castiel scowled.  
“I never liked them very much, but then again... I don’t like Naomi, Ishmael, Thaddeus or Hael very much either. And they work for us, well for Raphael and Michael.”

Gabriel looked him in the eye, his golden eyes very serious. “Our family is seriously fucked up, Cassie. But I got Samandriel out... Mike tried to get him in, promising his mom Rebecca he’d make sure the kid got a desk job. But my intel from... my guy... said he was all signed up for the most advanced classes. That kid is smart, Cassie. I got to him first. Telling him you didn’t work in the business, so he didn’t have to either. Turns out I lied to the boy.”  
He punched Castiel in the biceps.  
“Thanks for that.”

Castiel absentmindedly rubbed his arm where Gabriel had hit.  
“You didn’t lie, Gabriel. You didn’t know. Besides... I only take hits where the targets is a crook who’s getting away with it because of his money, and-or connections. I signed up with Michael under those very strict conditions.”  
Impressed, Gabriel pursed his lips and nodded.  
“Takes a bit of the edge of finding you here off, I’ll admit. So, you’re kind of a vigilante, freelance assassin? Seems I did teach you right from wrong. Kudos to you, baby bro.”   
He turned his eyes to his wristwatch. “Ok. Time’s up. Are you gonna call this one, or am I?”   
With a sly smirk, Castiel packed up.  
“Why not both of us? It was kind of a team effort... my shot, your gun.”  
Gabriel laughed out loud.  
“Cassie, I knew there was a reason I’m so damn proud of you!”


	11. Chapter 11

Dean rubbed his neck, before pushing the restaurant door open.  
The bland, professional smile on Cas’ face brightened, became genuine.  
“Hello, Dean. Welcome back. I heard I missed your last visit,” he greeted Dean jovially and that gravel over silk voice ratcheted up the nerves that tumbled through Dean’s veins.  
“Yeah... Sammy helped little Alfie become more secure in his shoes. The kid’s quite a smart cookie.”  
A flash of some kind of sadness was visible in Cas’ amazingly blue eyes, but it was gone before Dean could really see it.  
“Yes. My cousin is wise for his age. Could you thank Sam for helping him out? He works here now, and it does lighten my load considerably.”

The easy way Cas talked to him, calmed Dean’s nerves a little, and he blew out a swift breath.  
“Cas...” he started, earning him one of Cas’ signature head-tilts, which... ok totally adorable.  
“Wdy’lketg’h’vedr’nkw’mme?”  
Cas blinked, then licked his lips.  
“I’m terribly sorry, I didn’t get that...” he remarked kindly.  
Sighing, Dean repeated his question slower and a little louder.  
“Would you like to go have a drink with me?”  
Cas blinked, swallowed and ran his hand through his hair, making it look even more like he’d just left the bedroom.  
And was it Dean’s imagination, or was Cas blushing?

“A... a drink? As in a date kind of drink?” Cas asked softly, eyes locked onto Dean’s, like he needed to study every hue of green in them.  
With a chuckle, Dean replied.  
“Yeah... like a date kind of drink. If you swing that way, that is. Maybe... after hours?” he ventured.  
The hatch to the kitchen opened and Gabriel stuck his head out.  
“Oh for fucks sake, you two! Cassie! Go. I got Alfie if I need him. And Dean-o.... hurt my baby brother, and I’m going Biblical on your ass, buster!” he warned.  
Cas blushed deeply and smacked his arm.  
“Shut up, Gabriel!”

They left, and Cas asked Dean if it was ok if he’d change clothes.  
“I’m not dressed this formal when I’m off,” he explained.  
Dean licked his lips and nodded.  
“Sure. You live very far off? ‘Cause we can take Baby to...” he offered, but Cas interupted him by taking a key from his pocket.  
“No. We live upstairs. Saves lots of time getting here...” he smiled, opening a door next to the restaurant.  
“Come on up. I’ll be swift.”  
Throat bone-dry, Dean followed that sexy butt up the stairs, clamping down the desire to run his hand over it.

oooOooo

Castiel couldn’t believe it.  
Dean had asked him out... on a date! How did he get so lucky?   
He was seventy three percent sure Dean wasn’t Cat-eyes, yet he felt a definite attraction there. Those green eyes had captured him, just like Cat-eyes’ had, but Dean was safe. He was a nice man, who happened to like guys, and he was chivalrous to boot. Like now, he was sitting on the edge of the couch, not prying, not trying to catch a glimpse of Castiel’s body as he was changing.  
Castiel knew this, because he’d used his stealthily way of walking to peek around the door at Dean.

He swiftly chucked his shirt, tie and slacks and walked up to the closet, dressed in nothing but his deep blue boxer-briefs.  
He decided on simple, yet well fitted black jeans, a grey AC/DC shirt, which was a tad tight, and a blue denim button up.  
His hand curled around a pair of balled up socks, he made his way back to the living room.

Dean’s green eyes flashed to him as he entered, taking in his bare feet, black denim covered legs, and travelling up to his eyes.  
Dean gulped loud enough for Castiel to hear, and a tentative smile pulled up one corner of his mouth.  
“You... kinda look amazing,” he said, awe in his voice.  
Heart stuttering, blush rising, Castiel ducked his head.  
“Thank you,” he modestly replied.  
The little strip of pink tongue that slicked up Dean’s lips was distracting, and his heart stuttered.  
“We... we could have that drink here....if... if you’re if you’re amendable.”

oooOooo

When Cas came back, Dean very nearly forgot his own name.  
His bare feet peeked from under the frayed hems of tight, black jeans, which accentuated his runners thighs.   
The faded band shirt spanned his pecs and the blue denim really brought out those cerulean eyes.  
Dean nearly choked on air.  
He couldn’t help it. His throat was dry as fuck, and he had to gulp loudly to even be able to make his compliment.  
An adorable, pink blush dusted Cas’ cheeks and he ducked his head.  
Dean nearly missed the stammered invitation, due to his heart pounding in his ears.  
 _‘Fuck yeah! Am I ever amendable!’_ his mind jubilated.

“Sure. We can do that. I’d like that,” Dean hastened to answer, and Cas dropped the ball of socks he was holding.  
His pink, pink lips parted and the blush intensified.  
“Ok... I.. I can offer you a beer, or a scotch, or...” Cas started to babble.  
Dean stood, made his way over to the guy and crowded in his personal bubble.  
“Cas...” he said, chucking up Cas’ chin with his finger. “... relax. I asked you out, didn’t I? I’m not gonna run anywhere.”  
Those blue eyes looked up through soot-coloured lashes, making Dean lick his lips yet again.  
“Or we could skip the drink and get to the fun part...” Dean offered, already closing the distance between them a bit.  
Cas didn’t speak. A soft “Uhuh,” was all he uttered, before their lips touched.

It was bliss, Heaven and coming home, all in one brush of lips.  
Cas moaned in the back of his throat, and Dean deepened the kiss, his eyes fluttering shut in delight.  
Cas returned pressure, slipping a hand up to cradle the back of Dean’s head.  
Lights flashed behind Dean’s eyelids, while his hands decided to gently cup Cas’ cheeks, stubble prickling slightly.  
When the need to breathe overtook, Dean reluctantly pulled back.  
Cas followed, eyes hooded, lips spit-slick and kiss-swollen.  
“God, you’re sexy...” Dean breathed.  
Those blue eyes flicked up and a small smile quirked at the left hand corner of Cas’ mouth.  
“Permit me to reply in kind...” he rumbled low.

Dean chuckled softly, thumb brushing over that delectable lower lip.  
“You’re adorable... and a dork. You’re adorkable,” he commented, before dipping back in for another taste.  
Cas hummed in protest, but soon relaxed and partook in the lip action.  
Licking teasingly over the seam of Cas’ lips, Dean asked for entrance.  
With a sigh, Cas parted his lips, allowing Dean to dip his tongue in and taste.  
There was no way to describe how Cas tasted. It was a pure, new taste, and Dean wanted more, so much more.  
A soft keen escaped him, as he slid his tongue around Cas’.

oooOooo

Cas moaned deeply while his tongue danced around Dean’s.  
This was not what he’d thought would happen, but dear lord, did he like it!  
Dean’s hands were resting on his hips like brands, their heat seeping through the denim.  
He’d never, ever done anything even remotely close to kissing like this before, and now, with Dean, he was swiftly on his way to much more.  
Dean’s right hand slid up, rucking up both denim and soft cotton.  
The slight chill to his side and hip wasn’t disturbing in the least.   
No, it was erotic in a way, and Cas couldn’t help the slight gasp that escaped him.  
Dean pulled back, teeth dragging over Cas’ bottom lip, pulling, biting without a sting.  
“Dean...”  
He could hear the want, the need in his own voice, and he wasn’t even a bit embarrassed about it.

Soothing Cas’ lip with his tongue, Dean moaned.  
“Cas... if... if you want, I’m free all day...” he offered. “Sammy’s busy being an egghead.”  
Cas gulped. This was going a tad too fast now.  
“Dean...” he tried, reluctantly putting distance between them. “I... I’m quite inexperienced in this...”  
The stricken look on Dean’s face would have been funny, if it hadn’t concerned such private affairs.  
“Y..you’re a... a virgin?” Dean gasped.  
Cheeks flaming, Cas nodded.  
With a punched out gasp, Dean let go.  
“Holy.... fuck. I’m... I’m so sorry, Cas. It’s just... you look like.., well like that!” he explained, making an up-down-up wave with one hand, to indicate Cas’ whole appearance. “And your voice... heh.... it sounds like sex personified. How hasn’t there been a guy or gal lucky enough to have you? All of you?”

Cas sighed. He couldn’t see what Dean saw. Heck, he could hardly believe Dean saw him like that.  
“I’m not that much, Dean. Don’t... just... don’t,” he objected, his head drooping.  
Dean took his head between both his calloused, tender hands and forced Cas to look into those veridian eyes.  
“Castiel, I’ve been around the block, a lot, but you are the most sexy, amazingly handsome guy I have ever seen. Believe me if I say you’re hotter than a New York summer.”  
His sincere stare shifted, changed to a provocative twinkle.  
“And I sure as shit am going to show you how amazing you really are. Starting now,” he stated firmly. “How about that beer?”

Cas stared at him, tongue-tied. What had just happened?  
Dean gave him a warm smile, then pecked him tenderly on the lips.  
“I’m gonna take it slow, Cas. You’ll call the shots. Deal?”  
Both relieved and annoyed, Cas nodded.  
“If that’s the case, Dean, I want to make out, after your beer,” he answered.  
Dean gaped, then rallied.  
“Ok. We can totally do that...”


	12. Chapter 12

They spent the afternoon on Cas’ leather couch, switching between drinking beer, watching TV whilst discussing the pro’s and cons of dr. Sexy vs. Doctor Who, and making out.  
Dean made sure it was all fully clothed, but Cas did slip a hand under Dean’s black t-shirt and the shy, careful way he’d mapped out Dean’s torso was both cute and a huge turn-on.  
It had taken all of Dean’s self control and picturing Bobby poledancing to not ravish Cas there and then.  
But he’d promised, and Dean Winchester did not back out of his promises.  
And now Cas had kissed him goodbye sweetly, before he made his way home to the apartment he and Sammy rented.

Dean opened the door to a smirking little brother.  
“So. You and Cas huh?” the giant sassed, and Dean could punch him right there and then.  
“Yeah. Wait... how’d you know?” he asked suspiciously.  
He regarded the blush that raced up Sam’s cheeks with grim satisfaction.  
“I decided to see if Gabe did food to go, thinking you might like some of that steak. But Gabe informed me that you’d taken his baby brother out for drinks. Around three... it is now...” He made a big show of looking at his wrist, which was bare, no watch in sight.  
“...almost nine thirty... Got something to add?”

Gods he hated that smug smirk at times.  
“Just that you’re a little shit. Nothing spectacular happened, really. We kissed, made out, all above clothes stuff. Cas isn’t just a bar fling.”  
Seeing Sam raise his hands just stoked his anger, and he narrowed his eyes at Sam.  
“Never said he was...” Sam defended himself, but Dean cut him off.  
“Sure sounded like it. I like him ok. I really like him. And for him, I’m gonna take it slow.”  
Sam raised his eyebrows, impressed.  
“Wow. Ok. That’s... that’s really cute, actually,” he stated, surprise colouring his voice.  
Dean threw his jacket at him.  
“Shut up, bitch.”  
“Not anytime soon, jerk.

oooOooo

Torn between relieved and annoyed, Castiel watched the black behemoth car disappear in traffic.  
Relief that Dean was ok with taking it slow, annoyance at actually taking it slow.  
The door to the restaurant opened and closed, the sound of the locks clicking shut loud in the gathering dark.  
“Loverboy gone, Cassie?”Gabriel teasingly asked.  
Annoyance winning for now, Castiel whirled around.  
“Yes, and no, we did not have intercourse. Dean is a very sweet man, and as soon as he heard I was... inexperienced, he backed down.”  
Gabriel gaped at him, golden eyes wide.  
“What? Are... are you kidding? You never...” he stammered.

Shaking his head, Castiel bit his lip.  
“No.”  
“Not ever.”  
“No.”  
Scoffing Gabriel ran a hand through his caramel-coloured locks.  
“Wow. Not what I expected. And Dean-o is taking it slow? Really?”  
“Yes. Why is that hard to understand, Gabriel?” Castiel wanted to know.  
Even in the dark, he could see the colour rising in Gabriel’s cheeks.  
“Well... erm...” he muttered. “... Sammykins told me Dean was quite forward... and...”

The chuckle Castiel gave had him break off his explanation.  
“What?” he asked with wide golden eyes.  
Smirking so hard, he felt he might strain a muscle, Castiel stared straight back.  
“Sammykins... you really like him, huh?”  
Ducking his head, Gabriel pushed their front door open.  
“Shut up, Cassie.”  
“Make me, Gabey.”


	13. Chapter 13

Stretching, Cas got ready to go upstairs.  
He’d just been on another date with Dean, and even if after four months, all they’d gotten to do was clothed hand-jobs, Cas was happy.  
Dean was really an amazing and sweet guy, and although the mysterious Cat-eyes still managed to get his blood tingling as well, Cas had no intention to throw caution to the wind and tell the guy.  
They had met a few more times, and the banter between them was friendly, if a little sexually strained.

Mind wandering, Cas pushed open the door to the living room, and instantly recoiled at the smell.  
Covering his mouth and nose with his hand, he gagged.  
“Uhnf! Gabriel?” he punched out, heart racing, because that smell was rotting flesh, and it never bode well.  
Gabriel came walking in from his bedroom, wearing nitrile gloves, a face mask and a surgical apron.  
“Cassie... good. Alfie is gone already. I’m sorry, bucko. I have to do this.”  
He snapped off the goo covered gloves, took off the mask and apron, and stuffed it all in a garbage bag.  
Anxiety racing, Cas eyed him suspiciously.  
“What are you talking about, Gabriel?”  
Working meticulously and systematically, Gabriel grabbed a few things Cas valued, and stuffed them in a duffle.  
“The less you know, bro... but I’ll tell you enough. Mike found out about us sheltering Samandriel. He told Luci, and now our collective asses are grass. I got three bodies, John Does, from the city morgue, and there’ll be a convenient little inferno tonight.”

Cas’ heart stopped dead in his chest.  
“What? But.... but... but Dean....” he protested.  
Golden eyes, full of sorrow, looked up at him.  
“I’m sorry, Castiel. He’s safer if you die.”  
Cas’ mind screamed at him.  
_‘No! Nononono! This can’t be happening! I was happy... HAPPY!! WHY?!_ He turned his teary, blue eyes to Gabriel’s, which were equally wet.  
“Wait... you... Sam?” he asked, sudden realisation hitting.  
Gabriel nodded once and quickly returned to packing the most emotionally important and essential stuff.  
Ignoring the gaping hole in his soul, Cas started helping him.

oooOooo

Having dropped Cas off at home, Dean drove to the appointed spot and parked Baby.  
A black-clad figure slipped from the shadows.  
“A very good night to you, kind sir,” the guy said in a smarmy, sightly off, British accent. “I have your targets here. It’s three of them. They lead a child trafficking ring. I know you like to take a few days to prepare, but the sooner this has been discretely done, the better. An apparent accident does have preference.”  
Dean licked his lips. Child traffickers... UGH. But three at once, and an accident? That took time!  
“I have been informed that your fee will be quadrupled,” the smarmy guy said smoothly.  
Quadrupled. That would set Sam up until graduation...  
Grudgingly, he took the envelope.  
“Fine. But don’t whine if it’s not tonight. I just had a great date. Not really in the right mood.”  
The smarmy guy chuckled, a lock of blonde hair peeking from under his beanie.  
“If you actually did it tonight, you’d get five times the fee, muttonhead. Your choice, darling. Tata!” he smirked and retreated in the shadows again, basically instantly vanishing from view.

Sucking his teeth, Dean tapped the manilla envelope on his left hand.  
Five times the fee... wow. A.N.G.E.L. must really want them out of the way...  
His fingers fiddled with the seal, then stilled.  
No. He had such a nice time with Cas... he really couldn’t kill today. Plus, if it had to seem an accident, he needed at least a day to set up the details.  
He wouldn’t look at the names just yet.  
He threw the envelop on the backseat and slid behind the wheel, vaguely aware of lots of sirens sounding.

He eased Baby back into the mainstream traffic and suddenly got gridlocked.  
Fire engines shot past, sirens blaring, lights flashing.  
An uneasy feeling settled in Dean’s gut, and he turned Baby around.  
The more he followed the flashing blue lights, the tighter his gut clenched.  
The trucks were zooming downtown, then to the district he’d just left, then turned onto the street where... no.. Nonono...  
A good five hundred yards before Dean could see the restaurant, the street was bathed in an eerie orange glow.  
Ice started flooding Dean’s veins, and he floored the pedal until he found the road blocked by people.

Abandoning Baby, Dean made his way forward on foot.  
The heat radiating through the night had him stop a full block from the restaurant.  
The crowd was kept at a hundred yards distance from where the firefighters were doing their damnedest to keep the four story high flames from getting to the other buildings.  
Dean’s heart shattered and dropped through his feet.  
He heard his own voice rip as he shouted out his lungs.  
“CAAAAAAS!”

Strong arms blocked his path, a voice spoke soothingly to him, but all he knew was he had to find Cas. He needed to know Cas was ok. He was ok, he had to be ok.  
“Sir. Come on... you’re gonna get hurt...” someone said in a Louisiana accent.  
Dean struggled against the guy, fighting tooth and nail.  
A sharp whistle, and more arms wrapped around him, slowing him. Pinning him.  
“No. No you don’t understand... Cas... he lives above the... he... I just dropped him off... he.. and Gabe... shit, Gabe too...” Dean suddenly crumbled and he turned his green eyes pleadingly on the first guy, a burly man with a scruff and kind eyes. Officer Lafitte, his pin told Dean.  
“Tell me they’re ok. Please... tell me. Cas... Gabe... no.. please, officer... tell me there’s no-one in there...” he begged, voice raw and cracked.  
The big man gulped, licked his lips and glanced at his colleague.  
Those kind eyes were filled with regret when they returned to Dean.  
“I’m sorry, sir.... The fire department hasn’t been able to enter the building yet. The fire is burning too hot...” the policeman said, understanding clear in his warm, red-wine voice.  
Legs giving out, Dean sunk to his knees, green eyes glued to the flames engulfing the building that housed his love.

 

Somewhere along the line, Dean had enough clarity of mind to call Sam. His boyfriend was living there too.  
The brothers were sitting together at the curb, waiting for the flames to die out enough to let the firefighters enter the building.  
The captain had come over, having heard that the Winchesters knew who lived over the restaurant.  
“My men are doing everything, fellas, but I can’t make any promises. You know who lives there?”  
Dean didn’t move his eyes from the flames.  
“Yeah. Gabriel and Castiel Novak. The former owns the restaurant. They.... they’re our boyfriends,” Sam answered, his voice tired, and raw from smoke inhalation and crying out for Gabriel.

Something stirred in Dean’s numbed mind and he nudged Sam.  
“Alfie...” he softly said, eyes still on the flames.  
The captain squatted down next to him. “What’s that, son?” he kindly asked.  
“Their cousin, Samandriel, he... he was staying there until he could get his own place. Oh God... He’s just a kid... Sammy...” Dean held out his arm to his brother, knowing Sam had a soft spot for the boy.  
Sam gasped as he realised what Dean was saying, and he scooted closer, seeking solace.  
Dean pulled him in and Sam sneaked his arms around his waist.  
Together, the brothers sat and waited.

oooOooo

Cas watched as the flames erupted from the only place he’d called home since he had returned to the States.  
Gabriel had patted his shoulder and slipped him a note with a single phone-number, before disappearing in the darkness.  
Sadness crawled down his throat, and he turned away with difficulty.  
He was about to leave, when he heard an all to familiar voice cry out, raw and desperate.  
“CAAAAAAS!”  
It tore through him and ripped the gaping hole in his chest even wider.  
Dean.  
He stealthily made his way around and slipped into the shadows behind the gathered crowd.

It took him no time at all to find Dean.  
He was struggling like mad to get to the restaurant, calling out Cas’ name repeatedly, each cry more desperate.  
Tears stung Cas’ eyes and his heart died within him.  
He kept to the shadows, but never left.  
He saw Sam arrive, lunge himself forward, just like his brother, only to be caught and held by the same, kind officer.  
Sam’s anguished cries for Gabriel didn’t hurt any less than Dean’s cries for Cas had.  
Hurting them like this, made Castiel feel like great, searing holes were burnt in his very soul.

The sky was already turning pink, when the fire fighters started carefully picking through the debris of his former home.  
When the shouts started, Cas knew they’d found the remains, and he wanted to vanish there and then.  
The captain slowly made his way to where Sam and Dean sat, head hanging, hands fidgeting.  
Cas couldn’t make out what the man said, but he definitely heard the brothers cry out in unison.  
“NOOOO!”  
Frozen in place, Cas watched them both crumble to the ground, barely hanging on to each-other, sobbing and tears streaming.  
His own face was long since soaked with his tears, and the brightening daylight was starting to diminish his shade.  
Leaving heart and soul there on the sidewalk, Cas disappeared.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, here be where the smut starts. I did tag it!  
> Enjoy my unicorns!

Two years...two years since that inferno had ripped his soul out, and made Sam a shell of the man he used to be.  
Dean still worked for Bobby, while Sam had thrown himself on his study.  
By now Sam was fluent in ASL, and close to getting his teaching degree.  
But both of them just ploughed on, numb and not really feeling alive.

They never spoke about Cas, or Gabe, but they both knew the other had lost the love of their life.  
Dean hadn’t opened the manilla envelope, too crushed to even think about anything but the bottom dropping from his world.  
Yet, somehow, the hit had been made, in the same night Dean and Sam lost their reasons to breathe. Two days later the numbers his secret account had suddenly risen by fifteen times the usual amount. Five times his fee, tripled, because three people ‘happened’ to die.  
Maybe the guy who called him ‘Cat-eyes’ got the hits in... Dean didn’t really care anymore.  
It had left a bitter taste in Dean’s mouth, and he broke with A.N.G.E.L. not wanting anything more to do with them.

He’d started to do research, find his own targets.  
Being friends with Benny Lafitte helped.  
Ever since that terrible night, Benny had been keeping an eye on the Winchesters, and a friendship grew.  
Now, Benny often told Dean about the injustice he encountered on the job, and if something tickled Dean’s guts, he dug deeper.  
It had turned up some pretty nasty buggers, and Dean had gladly taken care of the worst of them.

Today it was raining, and Dean had a job. The night was pitch black, which was perfect to hide Baby, and Dean himself.  
He drove her to the secluded parking lot, killed her lights and engine, and got ready to play his deadly game.  
The tarmac shone wetly, as his black combat-boots made little splashing noises on it.  
Unbidden, the lyrics to ‘Boulevard of Broken Dreams’ rose in his mind.

“I walk a lonely road,  
The only one that I have ever known.”

Dean grimaced. He didn’t know why, but he felt the song deeply.  
Softly he sang the chorus.

“My shadow's the only one that walks beside me  
My shallow heart's the only thing that's beating  
Sometimes I wish someone out there will find me  
Till then I walk alone...”

His voice broke on the last line, heart aching for deep blue eyes and soft, tousled dark hair.  
If the rain on his face was mingled with salty tears, no-one could tell.  
No-one was there to see anyway.  
Silently cussing himself out, he rubbed his face clean.

Under cover of a concrete wall, he blackened his face where the balaclava didn’t reach.  
A drugs baron lived in this simple town house, totally under the radar, but Dean had picked up on him.  
Sam had come home with the tale his student Kevin had told him, and Dean’s gut had perked.  
Kevin’s girlfriend had been propositioned by a dealer, just outside the gates of her school.  
Dean had staked out the place, saw the creep at it, and followed him here, where he saw the guy’s boss.  
Several similar stories had come to light from other students as well, including some where kids had actually taken the drugs and gotten severely ill.  
So now, it was pay-back time.  
He vaulted the back wall and silently dropped into the yard beyond.  
A dog started barking, and Dean stiffened.  
A black-clad figure darted past him, and he only just snagged its arm, when a viscious looking guard dog came skidding around the house.  
Fuck!  
Recon had given Dean a good idea of the lay of the land here, and he pulled the other along with a hissed: “C’mon. I got a safe place.”

The other one didn’t struggle or question him, they just followed.  
Dean ran to the small tool-shed in the righthand corner of the yard, where he’d picked the lock earlier today, and all but threw the person he was dragging along inside.  
He followed in one swift jump, slamming the door on the dog.  
Frenzied barking could be heard and a loud thump told them when the animal had arrived.  
In the tiny shed, Dean and the other almost stood nose to nose.  
“So... nice night for a walk?” Dean quietly quipped in the dark, trying to ignore those snarling barks outside.

“Cat-eyes,” the other guy breathed, his voice muffled by his mask. “I thought you must have either been caught, or...”   
He let the rest hang there, both of them knowing.  
“Nah,” Dean whispered back. “Just... dialled down a bit. Had other things on my mind.”  
The other nodded, then pulled down the black mask from his mouth, the skin underneath blue-ish in the light from the shed’s tiny window.  
“Me too. Something.... life changing happened a few years back. I haven’t really felt up to.... this, since,” he stated, voice so low, it sounded hoarse.  
Dean’s eyes got drawn to the lips that the mask uncovered.  
For the first time in two years, something like lust stirred in his belly.

He pulled his balaclava up from his own mouth to breathe more freely.  
“I feel you, man.” He also kept his voice low, not to be audible from outside. “So, target dead, I take it? But did Fido get you?”  
The man’s mouth twitched as he gingerly put his left hand on his right upper arm.  
“Yes to both. That mutt can really jump,” he answered equally quiet.  
Dean licked his lips in the dark, noticing the other’s eyes darting down, by the glint they made in the darkness.  
“Ok. Show me. If it’s bad, I got a medic-kit in my bag. I can stitch you up.”  
They moved around a bit, but in the end, the guy managed to get his arm bare up to his shoulder and turned his back to show Dean without cramping up the place.  
“Did it get my ink?” came the whispered question.  
Mouth dry, Dean let his eyes roam over the black inked wing that covered the guy from shoulder to just above his elbow.  
“Don’t think so...” he managed to croak out equally softly.

The bite was not too bad, and as luck had it, just below the last inked primary.  
“I got this, Angel. You’ll be fine,” Dean promised, still whispering, while he got out his kit.  
When the alcohol pad hit the wound Angel drew in a hissed breath.  
“Angel?” he asked, looking down where Dean’s fingers were swiftly taking care of his injury.  
Dean shushed him until he was done.  
“Yeah. You got wings, don’tcha? Anyway. All good,” he told Angel.  
Angel turned around, and in the dim light, Dean caught sight of a little freckle or mole, just shy of the man’s nipple.

Throat suddenly bone-dry again, he licked his lips once more.  
Angel’s lips parted with a soft click.  
“Cat-eyes...” he breathed, and Dean looked up.  
“Yeah?” he managed, before the man suddenly grabbed his head and pressed their mouths together. The man tasted of mint, and something vaguely familiar and damned arousing.  
Dean moaned low, and Angel answered.  
Hands roamed, slipped under shirts and rubbed naked skin.  
Lack of oxygen forced them to let go.  
Panting heavily, Dean stripped his shirt off, narrowly avoiding taking his balaclava along.  
Angel’s eyes were hungrily taking in every inch of bare skin that got revealed, lingering on the tattoo of a pentagram in a ring of fire.

“Oh God yes!” Angel breathed and followed suit.  
Dean closed his eyes, not wanting to see if the guy’s mask got caught.   
Anonymity was key in this business, and he didn’t want to break Angel’s.  
“Cat-eyes... look at me... kiss me again, please,” Angel begged and Dean just crashed them together again, his hands roaming over the warm, naked flesh.  
Angel tilted his head back, eyes closed behind his ninja-like face mask.  
Dean let his lips roam down the rapidly beating vein in that long stretch of neck.  
It tasted nearly as good as Cas, and Dean wanted way more.  
He still let his lips taste and take, nipping the nipple, before licking over that cute freckle.  
“Oh my word.... Cat-eyes... please.... more...” Angel gasped.

Dean smirked against his belly.  
“Sure thing, Angel. Anything you say,” he hummed softly into the abs before him.  
His hands explored the pants, noticing they were some kind of tight yoga pants, and Angel was fully hard in them.  
“Oh... oh my... so... so long... so long...” Angel gasped, and Dean could feel his own dick press against his zipper.  
“Shshsh,” he shushed Angel, slowly pulling down the guy’s pants and boxer-briefs.  
“I gotcha... you ok with this?”  
Angel whimpered, pressing a fist to his mouth.  
“Yes, yes... please, please!” he moaned.  
Seeing that cock, standing proudly with a bead of precum glistening in the blue-ish light, Dean nearly creamed his own pants.

He pressed little kisses on Angel’s belly, slowly, but surely making his way south.  
Angel moaned and bucked slightly.  
Dean smirked as he nipped one of those sharp hip-bones.  
Punching out a soft gasp, Angel spasmed, more precum dribbling out.  
Dean licked his lips and teasingly lapped at the tip of that delectable cock.  
“Ah!” Angel gasped and he bucked, pushing his cock between Dean’s lips.  
Dean instantly opened up and let him slide home.  
Angel shuddered, a deep moan rolling from his lips.  
Dick pressing insistently against his jeans, Dean took Angel’s hands and placed them on his head.  
Oh how he wished he needn’t wear that balaclava, to feel those hands on his hair, maybe pulling the strands a bit.  
He bobbed his head, tongue expertly trailing that one vein.

Angel made the most beautiful, quiet sounds and his hands tightened on Dean’s head.  
Those slim hips stuttered, wanting to buck, to fuck Dean’s mouth.  
Oh yeah, he was fully on board with that.  
Dean hummed a quiet encouragement and let the man’s most basic instinct take over.  
Angel shuddered again, and his hips started pistoning, dropping little bits of precum on Dean’s tongue.  
Dean hummed again, and Angel just broke.  
He wildly fucked Dean’s mouth, gasping, moaning, grunting and suddenly locking up and coating Dean’s tongue with cum. Dean swallowed, as he nearly came himself. Fuck, this was hot!  
“Deeeaaaannn....” it came out on a gasped moan, and Dean nearly missed it, but that was his name. What the...


	15. Chapter 15

Panting, not believing his very first blowjob was in some dingy, dark shed with Cat-eyes, Cas leaned back against the wall.  
The world had whited out and he hoped he hadn’t embarrassed himself by coming so soon and so hard.  
Cat-eyes tucked him back in his pants, eyes firmly on the task at hand.  
Cas let his hand trail down the man’s stubbled jaw.  
If he closed his eyes, Cas could almost believe it was Dean.  
When he opened them again, Cat-eyes stood nose to nose with him.  
“So. Long time, you said?” he whispered, but there was an edge to it, and Cas wondered what happened.

“Yes. So long...” He didn’t feel the need to explain that his moans were about how long he had wanted to get a blowjob. If Dean hadn’t been so sweet and insisted on keeping it slow, he might have had one years ago... But they had only made out, and sometimes they’d freed themselves and jerked eachother off. Nothing like the skin-on-skin he just had with Cat-eyes.  
Blinking back the tears, Cas swallowed, absentmindedly noting he’d lost his gum somewhere along the way. Probably swallowed it when the dog had pounced.  
“Boyfriend, or girlfriend?” Cay-eyes bit out.  
Frowning in confusion, Cas answered. “Boyfriend. I... I’m really not into girls...”  
Cat-eyes narrowed his green eyes, so much like Dean’s Cas wanted to weep, and hummed.  
“Huh. Ok. I hope you were the one to break Dean’s heart, not the other way around,” he stated and stepped back, glancing out the window.

It was like the breath was punched out of Cas.  
“Wh... what?”  
Cat-eyes shot him a cocky glance, mouth once more covered by his balaclava.  
“You moaned ‘Dean’ when you came... figured he was still under your skin.”  
Oh. Oh crap!  
“Cat-eyes.... I’m sorry. It’s just... something happened. Something bad... and... and...” he stammered, unable to finish his sentence.  
Cat-eyes sighed. “It’s fine. Don’t apologise. See ya, Angel,” he said harshly, still whispering, as though the whole thing hadn’t happened.  
He picked up his bag and pushed open the shed.   
“Dog’s gone now, but I’d hurry if I were you,” Cat-eyes whispered over his shoulder, and disappeared into the night.

Cas couldn’t move.  
The dog had come back around. He had heard it sniff and scratch at the door, but still he couldn’t move.  
He’d had the hottest encounter in his life, and the man who had given him this had just walked out as if it was nothing.  
Of course Cat-eyes’ feelings were hurt. Cas had moaned out another guy’s name while shooting his cum in Cat-eyes’ mouth. That was the epitome of hurtful things to do, but Cat-eyes had left, not wanting to hear his explanation.  
Cas felt like shit, like the lowest of low-lives.

He made his way home, rubbing off his make-up and changing back into his uniform before actually entering his house.  
He put on into his pyjamas and slid between the blankets, already longing to meet Cat-eyes again, and at the same time missing Dean with more ferocity than he had in months.  
It was almost as if Cat-eyes and Dean were the same person, and they had walked out of Cas’ life themselves this time.  
Cas brusquely turned on his side and stared into the darkness.  
An arm slipped around his waist and breasts pressed against his back.  
A soft voice kindly asked: “Rough shift, sweetheart?”  
Cas just hummed.

oooOoo

It couldn’t be. Cas was dead. D.E.A.D. deceased, croaked, ended. No longer a warm, living, breathing person.  
It was just coincidence that Angel’s ex had the same name... It’s not like his was an uncommon name.  
Dean was lying in bed, eyes firmly fixed on the ceiling, because if he turned, his eyes would fall on the picture on his night stand.  
The one of him and Cas cuddling on the couch at Dean’s old home.  
Sam had something similar, and both brothers knew the other still talked to their picture.  
Dean sighed. The coroners had been certain, even without dental records or proper DNA stuff to compare, that the three almost molten bodies had been of Cas, Gabe and Alfie.  
Length, age, race... it all fit.  
Dean had lost two friends and his love in that inferno, and it would never not hurt.  
His hand unerringly found the quart of JD and he put the bottle to his lips.  
“Here’s to you, Cas,” he murmured before tipping the bottle up.

An hour later, Dean was silently crying, and humming ‘Boulevard of Broken Dreams’ again.  
Sam came in, took stock of his brother and quietly took the, now empty, bottle away.  
“Dean...” he tried, only to tear up himself.  
Dean swallowed, and without a word reached for Sam.  
Biting his lip, Sam tried to keep himself from giving in, but he ended up with his nose in the crook of Dean’s neck, softly sniffling.  
Dean ran his hand over the soft locks and let his own tears fall unheeded.

oooOooo

Once their tears had dried, Sam turned around and made himself comfortable next to his big brother.  
He knew Dean was still hurting, just like him, but Dean hurt in self-destructive ways.  
Like the drinking and the picking fights he could barely win.  
“What set it off this time, Dee?” he asked quietly.  
Dean sighed, running a hand through his short hair.  
“Just.... stuff. You know. Silly little things.” He turned to look at Sam. “Will I ever feel whole again, Sammy?” he asked in such a tiny voice, Sam could feel his already shattered heart break even more.  
“I dunno, Dee... All I know, is that I have never found another like Gabe. Close, but never Gabe.”  
Dean’s shoulders started to shake as renewed sobs came loose.  
“I wanna die, Sammy... that way I can at least see him again.”

Icy cold spreading through his core, Sam roughly pulled Dean into a crushing hug.  
“No! Don’t say that, Dean! If you die, who will I have left? Please.... don’t ever say that again.”  
Dean half pulled free and his eyes, even more green because of the tears, caught Sam’s.  
“Don’t tell me you haven’t thought the same thing at least once,” he demanded to know.  
In all honesty, Sam couldn’t, so he just shook his head, tears forming once more.  
Dean pulled him back in, desperately clinging to him.  
“Don’t you dare either, Sammy. There ain’t no me, if there ain’t no you!” he punched out, and Sam felt his tears drip on his shoulder.  
“I won’t, Dean. Promise. Just you promise me the same. You’re all the family I have left.”  
Dean hiccupped out his promise, and the brothers fell asleep, each desperately hanging on to his sibling.


	16. Chapter 16

Raking up the leaves from the lawn, he tried to reach the calm he so desperately needed.  
A soft footfall had him stiffen.  
“Emanuel, I have made you some coffee, if you like,” a soft voice came from the porch.  
Eyes on the lawn, he nodded. “Thank you, Daphne. I will have some once I have finished.”  
Daphne’s soft, grey eyes smiled at him.  
“I’m going to work, Emanuel. I will see you tonight,” she told him, brushing her brown hair behind her ears.  
He nodded again, pulling the rake along the grass, not really focussing.  
He didn’t notice Daphne leaving.

The sun climbed and he still raked, mind whirling.  
A shout had him freeze, not believing his ears.  
“Kaseuti el hyung! Annyeong!”  
He whipped around, eyes wide. There were very few who would call that out across a suburban street.  
A young Asian man with mischievous eyes, dimples and his hair dyed the colour of red wine waved at him.  
Tears welled up and he dropped his rake.  
“Kim Namjoon! Migug-e osin geos-eul hwan-yeonghabnida.”  
The young man ran over and they hugged.  
“I have looked all over for you, Kaseuti el hyung. You stopped writing two years ago.”

Cas sighed. He knew he’d worried his Korean friends, but he couldn’t contact them. He had to disappear.  
“I know, Namjoon. And I’m sorry.”  
He guided the boy inside and quickly showed him around.  
The boy’s eyes landed on the picture of Cas and Daphne on the mantle.  
“Kaseuti el hyung? You... live with... her?” Namjoon carefully asked.  
They sat down on the couch, coffee in front of them.  
Cas sighed. Namjoon and Kwang-Sun both knew about his sexual preference.  
“Yes. But it is a mutually pleasant agreement. Daphne, she’s ace, and I... I had to leave, disappear. I’m ok, I promise.”

Namjoon put a consoling hand on his shoulder.  
“Where have you been?” he wondered.  
Cas looked him straight in the eye and answered.  
“At first? Chwihaesseo,” he admitted low, remembering those first months where he had tried to drown his sorrow.  
Looking baffled, Namjoon took a sip of coffee.  
“Drunk? You? You have one of the highest alcohol tolerances I know...”  
A bitter scowl pulled Cas’ mouth down.  
“Yes. Let’s say I found a liquor store....and I drank it,” he stated.  
“But it got better. I met Daphne, and we... we hit it off. After a while she offered me a place to stay. I’ve lived with her for sixteen months now.”

A shrewd look came to Namjoon’s eyes and he gave a crooked smirk.  
“Then why you sad?” he asked in a soft voice.  
Cas hung his head.  
“I don’t know... nan molla,” he whispered.  
For a young man, Namjoon was very understanding and mature.  
“To be honest, Kaseuti el hyung, I feel you are still in love with Dean. What happened between you two?”  
Shaking his head, Cas grabbed his coffee.  
“I can’t tell you. I wish I could, but I can’t. I will even have to ask you to not mention to our friends that you saw me...”  
A determined look settled on the young Korean’s face.  
“I won’t... but you will have to tell me everything you can. Especially about you and Daphne.” he demanded, settling down in the couch, obviously not planning on moving.

When Daphne came home, Cas asked her if Namjoon was welcome to stay until he went back home. He was quite well known with his band, and the relative anonymity of their home would be a relief from the fangirls that were circling the hotel he had been staying at.  
Daphne smiled and nodded, running a fond hand through Cas’ dark hair.  
“Of course, he can stay. But why are you stateside anyway?” she asked.  
Flashing Cas a look, the boy answered with a half truth.  
“We’re making a new album, and I’m here to find new inspiration.”  
Not suspecting anything, Daphne took it at face value.

For the ten days that Namjoon stayed over, he and Cas spent a lot of time talking, often times in the weird mixture of English and Korean they always used.  
Namjoon showed Cas some of the work he had done with his band, and Cas actually kind of liked it.  
“Ryu Kwan-Sun told me he thought you would like it. Especially because our way of talking to each-other is pretty similar to the way the songs go,” Namjoon had told Cas.  
Then the day came that Namjoon had to leave.

They hugged for a long time and both their eyes were moist on parting.  
“Annyeong, Kaseuti el hyung,” Namjoon said with a hitch in his voice.  
Urgently, Cas hushed him.  
“Sshh! I’m Emanuel, remember?” he hissed, furtively scanning the street.  
The boy scoffed and ran his hand along Cas’ temple.  
“Oh lighten up. To most Americans it’s just some Asian gibberish.”  
Cas smiled ruefully, knowing it was true.  
“You’re right. Annyeong, Kim Namjoon. Anjeon yuji.”  
He watched his young friend leave and turned to the house with a heavier heart.  
He’d miss the company. Namjoon knew the real him, not the person he had made himself for Daphne.

oooOooo

Dean was picking up a broken down old Ford in some drowsy suburb, when he heard it.  
“Kaseuti el hyung! Annyeong!”  
If he hadn’t been present when Cas’ Korean friends had visited, he’d never given the call a second thought, but now his heart stuttered, the gaping hole throbbing with hurt.  
Turning around in the cab of Bobby’s old tow-truck, he tried to find who called out.  
A boyish young man with wine-red dyed hair ran across the street, straight into the waiting arms of a tall, dark-haired man.  
Dean’s heart clenched. It looked so much like... but he couldn’t be...  
Surreptitiously, he lowered the cab window to try and catch the conversation between the boy and the man.

The two turned and went into one of the cookie-cutter houses, before Dean could hear anything.  
He couldn’t really see the man, but the way he moved, his stance, his ruffled, dark hair.  
They all shouted “it’s Cas” to his wounded heart, on the other hand, Cas wouldn’t wear a blue, knitted sweater vest like that.  
A knock to his window jerked him back to reality.  
He was on a job. With a smile he didn’t feel, he apologised for zoning out like that, and drove off with the Ford in tow.  
All the while he was planning on finding out who the dark-haired guy was.

After over a week he’d finally gotten a day off from Bobby, and he spent it in Baby, watching the cookie-cutter house.  
The man he wanted to see had exited and entered the house in an old Mark 5 Lincoln, through the automated garage door.  
The Asian kid was still there, and from the looks of it, the dark-haired guy was having a deep conversation with him, sitting in the dark on the porch with their back to Dean, so, damnit, still not seeing the face of the guy his heart insisted was Cas.  
A cute lady with brown hair came out with iced tea’s.  
Dean strained to hear what she said.  
“Emanuel, dearest. Let the boy go up early today, huh? He has to go home to Korea tomorrow.”  
So it was Korean, and even though the lady said the man was called Emanuel, Dean knew, just knew, ‘Kaseuti el’ was the Korean pronunciation of Castiel.  
Vowing he’d get to the bottom, Dean started Baby and drove off, only hitting the headlights when he was on the main road.

Feeling every bit a creeper, Dean made his way to the cookie-cutter house.  
The lady with the brown hair was in the front yard, pruning some flowering bush.  
He stuck on his most charming smile, and walked up.  
“Hello,” he said kindly, all the while fighting the urge to drag her inside and really turn up the heat on her.  
She jumped slightly, then relaxed, like the normal folk in the world do.  
“Hi! Didn’t see you there,” she answered with a soft, if a little reedy, voice.  
Part of Dean wanted to scoff. He’d walked right up to her, in plain daylight.  
But he knew most people didn’t really pay attention.  
“Sorry to have startled you, miss...” he angled.  
She smiled fleetingly, took off her gardening gloves and held out her hand.  
“Allen, Daphne Allen.” So. Not married...

“Daphne...” Dean repeated, taking her hand in his. It was slightly clammy, but that could be because of the gloves, and she didn’t return the pressure of his shake.  
“... I’m looking to buy a house, and I’m scouting out different neighbourhoods. Could you tell me a little about living here? Is it... expensive? I mean, a young lady, buying a house alone, it must mean the price was reasonable.”  
Daphne’s smile came back.  
“I inherited the house, sorry... but utilities are reasonable, community taxes not too high. Me and Emanuel, that’s my... boyfriend, we get by pretty well, Mr...” Now she was angling.  
Dean pretended to be appalled by his own lack of social skills, whilst being inordainly happy about the little hitch around the ‘boyfriend’ part.  
“Oh! I’m sorry. Bad manners from my side. Mr. Young, Angus Young.” The guitarist of AC/DC was the first name to pop up, and Dean fervently hoped Daphne was a pop girl.  
“Angus... right. Anyway, I used to live alone here, until a little over a year ago. And I must say I never felt unsafe or threatened.”  
She tilted her head, her grey eyes questioning.  
“Do you have a... partner, Angus?” she asked.

Not this again. Did he have a sign on his head, shouting out: ‘Hey! Big queer guy here!’? The way she asked, made him decide on his answer.  
“Yeah... here...” He fished out his wallet and took out a picture of him and Sam, made a few years back on Sammy’s birthday. They had been goofing around in Bobby’s backyard and Bobby had shot a candid of them, all hugs and big grins.  
“This is my guy. Sammy is a real gem!”  
Daphne looked at the picture and she smiled genuinely this time.  
“I can tell you two love each-other!” she exclaimed, and suddenly she opened up the front gate and waved him in.  
“Come... I’ve got some iced tea left. D’you want some?” she offered.  
Gut clenching, Dean smiled widely and sat in the exact spot the dark-haired guy, Emanuel, had sat that time he’d spotted them from Baby.

“Is ehm... Emanuel, was it? Is he coming home soon?” Dean wondered, after two iced tea’s and some idle chitchat about the neighbourhood he wasn’t gonna move to if his life depended on it.  
Daphne shook her head. “He’s got an early shift at the cinema he works at. So from the matinee until after the dinner showing.”  
Crap. He couldn’t stretch his visit that long, it would be suspicious.  
“Aw. Too bad. From what I gathered from you, he’s the nicest guy. What cinema does he work at? Maybe I met him. I’m a bit of a movie aficionado...” he dangled his bait.  
She shrugged and simply took it.  
“Oh, I don’t know. You might have... it’s Regal Cinema’s. Here... I’ve got a picture of him.. hang on.”

Anticipation buzzing, Dean waited until she’d scrolled through half her phone gallery.  
He knew it was a possibility, but still he felt sucker-punched looking at the picture.  
Cas’ deep blue eyes looked at him, the tiny quirk of his mouth, where the left hand corner twitched up more than the right, it was all there.  
The guy in the picture was undeniably Castiel Novak. Though why the Hell he’d ran, disappeared and was now living an apple-pie life in the suburbs, was beyond Dean.  
“Angus? Are you ok?” Daphne wavered, her eyes darting from the phone to Dean’s face.  
Swallowing down the risen bile, Dean steeled himself.  
“Yeah, yeah...” remembering his role, he licked his lips. “He just caught me off guard. He is a cutie! And such... dreamy eyes! Not quite as pretty as my Sammy’s though...”  
Daphne fondly looked at Cas’ picture, and Dean wanted to gauge her eyes out for it.  
“Yes... he is nice to look at, but it’s more, you know? He is so... sweet! And caring. But if he caught you off guard, you mustn’t have seen him before.”

Fighting down his urge to scream, to bodily pin Daphne up the wall for even touching his Cas, Dean shook his head. “No... no I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting Emanuel personally.” He emphasised the name a bit. He knew Castiel, how he looked, smelled, acted when he was nervous, when he was turned on, but he didn’t know Emanuel.  
He cast a glance at his black watch and gave a fake gasp.  
“Would’ya look at the time! I gotta go! I promised Sammy my homemade apple-pie! He just loves that! Thanks, Daphne, for everything! I’m sure considering moving here. You might see me around more.” He knew he was babbling, but it played into his cards now.  
Daphne’s smile was warm as she waved him off.  
His was fake and nearly broke him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation Korean-English:
> 
> Annyeong - Hello or goodbye  
> Migug-e osin geos-eul hwan-yeonghabnida - Welcome to the United States  
> Chwihaesseo - drunk  
> Nan molla - I don’t know  
> Anjeon yuji - Stay safe


	17. Chapter 17

When Cas came home, Daphne was gone, off to her shift at the hospital, but there was a padded envelope lying on the front porch. He saw it from his car.   
He parked the car and got out, treading like the thing was a rattlesnake.  
It said ‘Emanuel’ on the front, but the lettering had him gulp. It looked like handwriting he hadn’t seen in two years.  
Sinking on the porch chair, he took big, calming breaths.  
He’d thought he had seen a familiar head of short, sandy hair around the block a few times, but dismissed it.  
He’d thought he had seen Dean all over Lawrence, but in a city of almost 100.000 people, tallish guys with short, sandy hair were a dime a dozen, and he’d learned to not bolt any time he encountered one.  
But this... this was creepy, and it tore at the wound he himself had slashed in his own soul two years ago.  
He turned the envelope over, but except from his fake name in that all too familiar writing, it was blank.

Hugging himself, he rocked back and forth a bit, glancing around to see if he could catch a glimpse of one very specific, black car.  
Too bad it was pitch dark out, and he could barely see the powder blue Prius on the Johnson’s driveway.  
He bit his thumbnail, a trait he’d never gotten over.  
The envelope was taunting him with its blankness and the inked letters that screamed ‘Dean’.  
He picked it up, gingerly sniffing it.  
A hint of a woodsy smell hovered on the very edge of his olfactory sense, but it shot through him like wildfire, filling his very being. Definitely Dean...

He let it wash over him, make the hurt that had been steadily thrumming through him for two years lessen just a bit, before he stood, glancing around one more time.  
His hands clenched on the envelope, crinkling it, as he made his way inside.  
As soon as he was in, he drew the curtains and sank onto the sofa.  
His long fingers were trembling as he ripped open the envelope.  
Out fell an unmarked CD-R and a piece of notepad paper.  
He set the disc on the coffee-table and, with anxiety screwing his throat close, unfolded the paper.

**‘Hi, buddy.**

**I know it’s you.  
I saw your picture.  
What I don’t know is why...  
What happened that you had to fake your Death? Not only yours, but your brother and cousin too.  
My brother is as fucked up about this as I am.   
I was, I guess.  
I dunno, buddy.   
Seems like you got issues.  
I don’t even care what they are.   
You hurt me. You cut out my heart and soul.  
Just to let you know how bad, I got you this.   
Whenever this song plays, I think of you, of how I feel without you.  
Sometimes it’s the other way around. I think of you, and this song pops in my head.  
Just listen to it, and know.**

**D.’**

Cas stared at the note, written in Dean’s all caps writing, the strokes hard and full of feelings.  
Whether they were anger or hurt, or maybe both, he couldn’t tell.  
He knew his own feelings though.  
They were remorse, heartache and loss.  
They ran from his eyes in a flood of tears he couldn’t, and wouldn’t, stem.  
The careful wording in the note told him Dean understood Cas was hiding, and any and all mentions of names could end up badly, even if Dean himself was pissed beyond pissed.  
Carefully he slid the disc in the cd player.  
Green Day’s ‘Boulevard of Broken Dreams’ sounded from the surround system, in low and dark tones.  
Sinking to his knees, Castiel broke down, sobbing as his soul got stabbed and burned once again.

When Daphne came home, she found nothing out of the ordinary, except that the bed was empty. But there was a note. It simply said: **Can’t sleep. Out for a walk. E.**  
She shrugged and got ready for bed.  
When the door opened and closed later, she never noticed.  
Nor did she know he spent the night sitting fully clothed on the sofa, headphones on and a certain unmarked cd on repeat.

oooOooo

It had taken him a full day and a half to overcome the hurt and the betrayed feelings. After that, he’d taken one more day to try and reason out why Cas might have done this, but he came up with nothing.  
Well. He had this one crazy theory that Angel was actually... Nah. He abandoned that as soon as he thought it up.  
Then he thought it only fair to let Cas know he was on to him. And that took another day to plan, fine tune and execute.  
Once he’d burned the cd, he wrote a note. And tore it up. Then wrote another... lather, rinse, repeat, until he was satisfied with it.  
Waiting in the dark shades, in Baby, he got anxious. What if this wasn’t Cas? Maybe he had an evil twin... like in the bad Spanish soaps. Or what if Cas hadn’t made the change out of his free will, or if he had amnesia? Dozens of half baked and crazy theories danced through Dean’s mind until that Mark 5 turned up.   
Black leather-gloved hands gripping the steering wheel, Dean watched as the driver got out. He made this way over to the porch in such a careful way, Dean just knew he’d seen the envelope.

The porch light shone on the man’s face and Dean made a soft, punched out noise in the darkness of his car. “Cas...”  
His entire being sang with delight and longing at the sight of that beloved face.  
Cas bent over and gingerly picked up the envelope.  
All colour leeched from his face and his eyes looked big and stark in the soft porch light.  
He sank on one of the chairs, and started rocking back and forth slowly.  
It stabbed Dean repeatedly in the soul, and he fought to not run over and pull Cas against his chest.  
He looked so scared, peering out into the dark as if he was looking for something.

Cas bit his thumbnail. A trait Dean had seen on him before, when he got very nervous. Then he picked up the envelope again and sniffed it.  
Dean snorted a laugh. Definitely Cas.   
Only Cas would sniff an envelope to see if he could smell who dropped it off.  
When Cas went inside and promptly pulled the curtains, Dean cussed out loud.  
“Son of a bitch!”  
Now he couldn’t see how Cas reacted.


	18. Chapter 18

Eyes glued to the door of the cookie-cutter house, Dean waited. He knew Cas would come out to find him.  
Sure enough, after eight agonising minutes, the door opened again, and Cas stepped out. In the yellow porch light he looked disheveled, with red rimmed eyes and his hair in worse disarray than usual.  
His keen eyes scanned the street left to right and back.  
Pity stabbing his heart, Dean flashed Baby’s lights once.  
Cas stiffened, then made a beeline towards Dean.  
As he came close, Dean simply popped open the passenger door, and Cas slid in like he belonged.  
“Dean...” he gasped, agonised.

Forcing his face straight and his voice calm, Dean looked at him, inwardly screaming.  
“Heya, Cas. Long time no see,” he simply said, then turned his eyes back on the dark street.  
Cas gulped. Dean could see his adamsapple bob from the corner of his eye.  
“Dean... you shouldn’t be here. You shouldn’t know...” Cas started, but Dean didn’t want to know anymore.  
“Look, Cas. It’s clear as a bell to me. You wanted out. For whatever reason. You’re out. I just... I needed you to know, ok? I needed you to know what you meant to me... still mean to me. I wanted you to know that staging your own death was cruel, but dragging Gabe and Alfie with you? That was low... Sam was... man.” He ran his hand through his hair. “The kid was crushed, Cas. He had nightmares. For months!”  
He conveniently neglected to mention his own hellish dreams after the fire. Dreams where Sam, Cas, Gabe, Alfie and his parents all burnt, or came back to haunt him. It was his fault. It always was his fault they’d burned. Dean shook his head to clear it.

Cas looked at him, blue eyes wide and apologetic.  
“Dean, believe me. I didn’t want this. But it had to be done. And it had to be a clean break. No loose ends,” he plead.  
The blue puppy eyes burned Dean’s heart, and he took a steadying breath.  
“So, now what, Cas? What the fuck do I do now? What will you do? Will you up and leave again?” he wanted to know, heart making a bid for freedom through his throat.  
Cas made a wounded sound as he dropped his gaze to his knees.  
“No...” he breathed, voice breaking on even that soft sound. “Not unless I’m really compromised.”  
Biting his lip Dean looked away.  
“You’re not now? It isn’t dangerous that I found you?” he hissed low.  
Cas looked up at him through his dark lashes.  
“No. From your note it was abundantly clear that you understand I’m in hiding. You wouldn’t do anything to harm me. I have faith in you, Dean.”

Feelings building up in his chest like a spring flood, Dean slammed the steering wheel with both hands.  
“Fuck, Cas! How? How am I supposed to just leave you? I need you!”  
Cas made a quiet, hurt noise, suddenly grabbed Dean’s jacket and pulled him close, crashing their lips together.  
“Hm! Hmf?” Dean managed, before the world faded out and all that mattered was those lips on his, that delicious tongue running over his mouth, asking entrance.  
He melted into the kiss, hands grabbing hold of Cas’ head and keeping him there.  
Cas pulled back a little, eyes darting between Dean’s.  
Dean just tugged slightly and Cas gave in, licking his way into Dean’s mouth.  
His hands, those amazingly gentle hands, slipped under the layers of Dean’s clothing, seeking warm skin.  
Dean arched his back as Cas’ fingers grazed his right nipple.  
“Cas... please...” he gasped, desperate for more.

Cas hummed and pushed up his shirts until that nipple was exposed.   
Bowing his head, Cas flicked that perky bud with the tip of his tongue.  
Dean’s head and the back of his knees were the only bits of him left in contact with the leather seat, he arched so far up.  
Cas’ hands were deftly undoing the buckle on Dean’s belt, while his tongue did sinful things to Dean’s nipple.  
“Hmmmm,” he moaned, licking around the pebbled nub as if it was the best tootsieroll ever.

That sound travelled straight to Dean’s crotch, where Cas was now rubbing softly, trying to undo Dean’s fly in the cramped space of the Impala’s front seat.  
Lust zinged through Dean and he knew he wouldn’t last.  
“C..Cas... Cas.. please... need it, need you!” he babbled, heat coiling tighter and tighter in his abdomen.  
Cas abandoned the zipper and just rubbed the bulge behind it with sure strokes, taking himself out and stroking his own cock with the same rhythm.  
“Is that so, Dean?” he rumbled, his already rough voice even more gravelly with lust.  
“Then prove it. Come for me, Dean. Come for me and show me how much you need me.”  
Dean couldn’t stop it. The coil snapped and he soaked his underwear and jeans.  
He spasmed and shook violently through his climax, screaming out the only name he ever had on his lips these days. “Caaasssss!”  
Next to him, Cas curled up and shook as well, groaning a low “Dean... oh gooodddd!”

When the world came back into focus, Dean looked at Cas, who was panting as heavily as he was.  
“Cas, babe... did you just get us both off?” he asked.  
Intense blue eyes glanced up behind soot-coloured lashes.  
“Yes... I did... you’re very arousing when you’re like that. I hope you have something to wipe the leather with... I’m sorry,” Cas said, red tingeing his cheeks.  
Dean was so sated, he didn’t even care about the leather for now.  
He glanced down, where Cas was putting himself away.  
“Hm. Next time I want that, Cas. Haven’t blown you yet, have I?” he rumbled low.

Cas stiffened and shifted awkwardly in his seat.  
“Dean... we have to talk,” he pushed.  
Afterglow efficiently killed, Dean sat up, wincing at the wetness of his crotch.  
“Yeah. I figured,” he admitted grudgingly.  
Cas sighed deeply before looking him in the eyes.  
“Dean... I love you, but...”he started.  
Swallowing the rising dread, Dean resolutely shook his head.  
“No. Nuh-uh. You cannot do this. No. Don’t tell me you’re happy with Daphne. Just... don’t. I’m willing to go now. Leave you be. But don’t tell me that. Please.”

Cas put his head in his hands, staring blankly at the dash.  
“I can’t... I’m not. Not really. She loves me, but...” he turned his eyes on Dean again, and they were swimming with unshed tears. “I don’t love her the way she deserves. I... Dean, I only love you that way.”  
Lips pressed into a thin line, Dean nodded once.  
“But we can’t be together. Is that it?” he demanded to know.  
Cas looked like his heart had just shattered.  
“It is.. Dean... I’m sorry...” he whispered.  
Steeling his own heart, Dean opened the passenger door.  
“Go. I’ll leave, and I won’t come knocking again. Just don’t turn away from me if you see me on the street. Give me that,” he plead, eyes fixed firmly on the road once more.  
Cas stumbled out, softly pushing the door shut.  
Dean didn’t move. He could see Cas cross the street and enter the house.  
He had no idea how long they had been in the car together, but he knew he would be there a lot longer, just staring at that house. Hating it, because it wasn’t his. Cas wasn’t his.


	19. Chapter 19

“Emanuel...” Daphne called that Saturday. “You have mail, sweetheart.”  
Cas dully turned around, only to freeze when he saw another padded envelope in her hands.  
“I think it’s from that sweet boy, what’s his name again?” Daphne continued, blissfully unaware of the mental breakdown Cas was having.  
Catching the Han-gul characters under the address, he relaxed.  
“Namjoon... Yes, it looks like he sent me a gift,” Cas managed, picking the envelope from her hands with slightly trembling fingers..

He took the envelope to his study and sank on his desk-chair, ripping it open.  
A lovely cut paper landscape and a thumb-drive tumbled out, along with two letters. One unlabelled, one with Daphne’s name on it.  
Setting aside the landscape, which he knew wasn’t for him, and the labelled letter, Cas opened the blank envelope.  
Namjoon had been the one to help Cas learn Korean, since he was pretty fluent in English.  
Reading and writing Han-gul had never been Cas’ strong suit however, so he was glad to see Namjoon had stuck with English, except for Cas’ name, his own name, and some writing at the very end.

**;카스티 엘,**

**I know I should have asked you if it was ok to use our talks like this, but I feel you might need this to help you.  
You are stuck. You are slowly dying, my old friend.  
Like you said yourself, it is like you grew a flower that can’t be bloomed in a dream that can’t come true.  
Please, for us all here who care for you... break the dream, grow a new flower.**

**남주**

**너를 사랑해.’**

Tracing the Han-gul, Cas gulped.  
It said ‘love yourself’ but how could he?  
He was so not worthy of love.  
He knew Daphne loved him, but he himself... he had no love left to give.

He started up his laptop and put the thumb-drive in.  
It only had one file on it. An audio file, labeled in Han-gul.  
Too tired to even try and translate it, he plugged in his ear-pods and pressed play.

The very first line the clear, boyish voice sang, ripped more holes in Cas’ chest.  
“Neol wihaeseoramyeon nanseulpeodo gippeun cheok hal suga isseosseo.”  
For you, I could pretend like I was happy when I was sad.  
He all but slammed the mouse, pausing the song.  
It was something he had told Namjoon.   
He had told him that he was pretending to be happy, for Daphne, because she deserved that.  
She had taken his drunk ass in and put up with his wallowing and grieving.  
He ran both his hands through his hair.  
This was going to sting, probably as much as the last song he had been gifted, but in a different way.

He restarted the song, braced for just about anything.  
By the time the song was done, he was trembling violently.  
Aside from the sentence about pretending to be happy, Namjoon had used his imagery about the flower in the dream, his plea that he just wanted to be a good man for Daphne but that now he didn’t know who he was, and the very first question-answer they had that had been about the confused life he was now leading... “Why you sad? I don’t know. Nan molla.”  
He stared at the screen, eyes on the Han-gul telling him the title of the song.  
Fake love.

Tears started to blur the screen, making the characters shift into weird shapes.  
A knock sounded, and he quickly wiped his tears away.  
“Yes?” Thank whomever was watching his sorry butt, his voice was steady.  
“Emanuel?” Daphne queried.  
“I’m ok. I just needed my computer. He sent me a sample of their new album. I know K-pop isn’t really your style, so I used my ear-pods,” he explained, opening the door.  
Handing over the paper landscape and the second letter, he stepped out of the room, pulling he door closed behind him.  
Delighted, Daphne took both items.  
“Aw! He thought of me too?” she cooed. “You have such nice friends, Emanuel. I never knew you had been to Korea...”

It took all Cas had to not burst out in hysterical laughter.  
 _‘Only half of my life. But I can’t let you know... Dean knew. I told him how Dad had kicked me out for liking boys when I was only 16, ending up on the streets, living from meal to meal. Until a gaybashing by my own cousin Uriel had me ending up being dropped in an airmail container, which got flown to Korea, where I lived until I was 32, before going back to the US.’_  
He remembered telling Dean all of this, and how Dean had simply held him, giving him sweet and soft kisses, until the cold hurt had been replaced by the warm love of those kisses.  
Every fibre in his being cried out for Dean. For his warm arms, his freckled cheeks and his loving, green eyes.

“Emanuel.. look! He wrote that the landscape was cut out by his grandfather, and it is of some place close to his home. He said it is to thank me for my hospitality. He is so polite!” Daphne’s voice broke through Cas’ longing, and he shuddered.  
“Yes. That is simply how he is... I must try and find his email address again. I seem to have erased it from my contacts,” he managed, voice level and face deadpan.  
That was untrue. The Han-gul on the envelope was Namjoon’s private email address, and it was the very first time he had ever seen it.  
Daphne nodded, kissed his cheek, and disappeared to go make dinner.  
Cas leaned against the door, eyes closed, heart hurting for Dean, mind torn about his relation with Daphne.   
Was Namjoon right? Was it just fake love?


	20. Chapter 20

Sitting on a wooden bench, pretending to be asleep while ogling your ex from behind your sunglasses, must be a new low, Dean figured. But it didn’t stop him from doing just that. He could see Cas puttering around his garden, mowing the lawn, and he had to focus all of his willpower on staying put.  
A glint caught his eye, and he slowly turned his head.  
From a white pine, Dean saw the black barrel of a gun protrude.  
Throat suddenly very dry, he followed its trajectory, and the bottom dropped out of his stomach when he saw it point straight at Cas.

Mind racing, Dean recalled how Cas had dropped down in the restaurant, so long ago.  
Praying it was what it had seemed, Dean carefully pretended to wake, stretch and wander off. He quickly and silently made his way around and into the yard where the tree stood. A person in black lay on their stomach on one of the lower branches, eye to the scope of an expensive, and highly efficient sniper rifle.  
Their finger was poised next to the trigger, but Dean knew it was just a matter of time until it curled around.  
He shot a glance at Cas’ garden, about fifty yards off, and adrenaline started to rush through him as Cas slowly wandered back into the line of fire.  
The sniper slowly, carefully placed their finger, a smug air about them as if they were enjoying the kill.  
Dean barked out a loud “Balsa!”, just as the trigger got squeezed.

Seeing Cas drop made Dean’s heart stop, but he had to take care of business first.  
The sniper had dropped to the yard and was packing their gun away.  
Cold, detached, Dean snuck up, grabbed the sniper’s head and snapped their neck.  
He dragged the body and the equipment under a nearby bush to be dealt with later.  
Then he ran to where he’d seen Cas go down.

Cas stood, brushing blades of grass from his clothes.  
“Ca... Emanuel! Are you ok?” Dean panted.  
Cas whipped around, eyes wide, panicked.  
“Wh... what are you doing here?” he gasped.  
Not in the mood for this, Dean stepped through the garden gate and carefully inspected Cas all over.  
“Not a scratch... you’re fine,” he breathed, then he smiled widely, rubbing his neck.  
“I’ll be damned... it worked.”  
A dark look crept into Cas’ eyes. “What worked?” he demanded.  
Severely smug about himself, Dean smirked at him.  
“Balsa,” he said.  
Cas ducked his head, obviously on instinct.  
“Damn it, Dean. How do you know about.... oh..” Cas’ voice faded, as he obviously recalled the day they’d met. “Ha. Ha. Dean. Not fu...”  
Dean just raised his eyebrows at him, cutting off his grousing.  
“I did not do that for kicks, Cas. Look.” He pointed.  
A pane of glass from the window had a perfect round hole in it. Cas blanched like a tap had been opened, draining his colour.  
“Daphne!” he gasped, putting his hands to his mouth.

Dean snapped his head around.  
“Wait... is she in there?” he demanded to know.  
Cas nodded mutely, hands still over his mouth.  
Dean rubbed his own mouth.  
“Well fuck. Call her! Call her out!” he snarled.  
Cas looked at him as if he’d sprouted antlers. “What? I’m not getting her out here. The sniper... oh no!”  
Dean nearly fell over as Cas pulled him behind the trunk of a big spruce.  
“Cas, hold up... the danger is gone. I took care of it,” he soothingly said.  
Stopping to try and find the threat, Cas looked him straight in the eye.  
“What? You... what?” he said, tilting his head in that totally adorable way.  
“I took care of it. You don’t have to worry. Just call Daphne. No need to go running in and scare her. If she doesn’t come out, then we panic, ok?” Dean reasoned levelly.

Nodding while he pondered Dean’s words, Cas relaxed marginally.  
“Daphne! Come look at this!” he called, sounding for all the world as if he’d found an interesting bug or something.  
They waited, but nothing moved inside.  
“Daph? Did you hear me?” Cas tried again, eyes starting to fill with worry.  
Nothing.  
Dean looked at the window, then at Cas. His stomach started to churn.  
He hadn’t liked Daphne, mostly because she got to be with Cas, while he...but he never wanted her dead. Not for real.  
“You stay here. I’ll check,” he whispered at Cas, who squared his jaw and nodded.

Dean made his way over to the window and stood on his tiptoes to look in.  
At first glance, it all looked fine, but as he stretched a bit further, he saw some brown tresses of hair lying on the floor. Crap!  
He signalled with his hands at Cas to stay put, that he was going inside.  
Cas looked whiter than virgin snow, but he nodded.  
Making his way to the room where he’d seen Daphne on the floor, Dean silently prayed to all the Gods of Pie that that one sniper had really been all.  
Daphne was lying under the window. She must have passed it just as the shot was fired.  
Careful to not tamper too much with the body, Dean examined her, his hands wrapped in his sleeves to not leave any prints.  
The big pool of blood told him the shot had been fatal. If she wasn’t dead when she hit the floor, she had bled out.

Sighing remorsefully, Dean looked at the woman.  
“I’m so sorry, Daphne. You didn’t deserve this. I hope you’re in a better place now,” he whispered, before walking back to Cas.  
Cas had seen him coming, and his face was a mask without emotion.  
“Cas... I’m sorry... I really am,” Dean told him low.  
Sucking in his lips before speaking, Cas blinked.  
“Did... was it quick?” he asked in a whisper.  
Dean silently nodded.  
Another of those curt nods.  
“Ok. Here’s the plan. I will have to leave. Disappear again. You call the cops. There is nobody home in this street at this time of day. So they haven’t seen us together. You can tell the cops that you’re a friend, and when you came to visit, you found her.”

Dean’s heart felt like it imploded, but he understood.  
“Get your stuff out,” he ordered Cas. “Make it look like you left or never even lived here. Are you well-known around here?”  
Cas flashed a smile without humour.  
“No. My irregular shifts made me some sort of ghost. Plus I never attended any social stuff. I wanted to be invisible, so I was. I know way more about them than they do about me.”  
It sort of hurt to hear Cas had basically been nothing less than wallpaper for this neighbourhood, but now, it was the best case scenario.  
“Good. Let’s go. We’ll pack everything you own. How about the car?” Dean glanced at the garage.  
Cas shook his head. “Hers. Like I said: a ghost.”

Within the hour, Cas and Dean had packed Cas’ life into Baby’s back seat. The trunk was taken by the sniper’s body. Not that Cas knew about that.  
Dean drove him off to the busstation.   
“What are you gonna do, Cas?” Dean wanted to know.  
Cas was staring at a yellowed piece of paper. “Vanish. I know someone who can make me invisible again.”  
Dean nodded, face grim. “Just... stay safe. Ok, Cas?”  
Cas nodded too, as he gathered his stuff. “Ok. You too. Take care of Sam.”  
Dean’s heart shattered once again, watching his love walk off.

Dean made his way back to the ‘nice’ part of town, ostentatiously walked up to the front door and knocked.  
“Daphne? You in, hon?” he called loudly, slipping back into his Angus Young persona.  
“Daphne?!” he called again, carefully opening the door.  
He made sure his yell was heard by at least four neighbours, if they were home.  
Sure enough, within minutes a pudgy middle aged man and a hefty Mossberg 930 appeared.  
“Hey.. who’re you, and why are you yelling like that?” the guy demanded to know.  
Raising his hands ridiculously high, Dean pointed at the door behind him.  
“I’m a friend of Daphne’s, and I was coming over to see if she was in, so we could maybe grab a Cosmo or two. But... but... she’s dead!” he blubbered, overacting his gay role a tad, and hating it.  
But the suburban neighbourhood watch guzzled it up like tea.  
“Dead? Are you serious, son?” he demanded to know.  
Dean nodded, tearing up his eyes by recalling how Cas had left again.  
“I ain’t 100% sure of course, but she’s just lying there and there’s so much blood!”   
He let his lower lip wobble precariously.

The man peeked around the corner, turned green and gulped.  
“Well... then we shall have to... have to...” he stammered.  
“Call the police?” Dean offered brightly.  
Mopping his brow, the guy nodded. “Yeah... that.”  
Batting his eyes, Dean pulled out his burner phone.  
“How about I do that, while you keep me safe. Sound good?” he chimed sweetly.  
More nodding, and Dean walked off a bit.

The cops showed up within two minutes, and Dean was once again reminded why stealth and timing were so important in his second job. Frankly, he was amazed that the cops hadn’t shown up that time with Angel in the shed...   
Focussing on the current situation, Dean once again pulled out all the stops on his gay act and blubbered to the officers he’d just wanted some Cosmo’s with Daphne, and how he had found her dead.  
Half an hour later, he was free to go.  
He waved sadly at the cops at the scene of the crime, happy knowing they wouldn’t find the brass, or the nest, because he’d cleaned that all up earlier.  
All he had to do now, was dump the body and go back to work.


	21. Chapter 21

When his phone rang, his new burner, he almost hit his head on the hood of an old mustang.  
“Hello?” he asked carefully, not knowing who called.  
“Mr. Cat-eyes?” came a raspy voice.   
Yes he had adopted the nickname Angel had given him. Sue him. He liked it, and he kinda wanted to remember the guy, even if he never showed up anymore.  
“Yeah... Who’s this?” he answered low, making sure no-one heard him.  
Bobby knew, heck, he taught him, because Dad wanted him in the field, except Dean refused to kill and not ask questions. That’s why he and John had stopped talking. But none of his co-workers knew.

“I’m Crowley. I work with an organisation that...”  
Dean rolled his eyes and cleaned his hands.  
“Yeah, Yeah... yadayada...” he interrupted rudely, making yapping gestures with his free hand. “...get to the point. Name the company or I’m hanging up.”  
A slightly annoyed gasp rang through the phone.  
“Honestly, it’s like working with children! We’re D. E. V. I. L. perhaps you’ve heard of us?”  
Dean scoffed. Who hadn’t? “The nemesis of A. N. G. E. L.? Yah, I heard of you,” he snarked.  
He could practically hear the eye-roll on the other side of the line.  
“Good, then we’re on the same page...” the guy started, but Dean cut him off right there.  
“Listen pal, far as I’m concerned, were not even in the same library. I’ve stopped working with your counterparts, because they’re dickless wonders, whose promises are nothing but hot air. I’m my own guy.”

Silence reigned for a bit.  
Then Crowley seemed to regroup.  
“Ah. Well. I see. But that’s why we were hoping you could help us out. Only from time to time, you know. You see, our... counterparts as you so eloquently put it, have started picking off our guys and...”  
Annoyance searing, Dean walked to the office, seeking privacy.  
“Listen, dill-weed, I don’t care. They could have started dating each-other and build homes together for all the fucks I give. I’m not getting into a pissing contest with you lot. That is certain Death. Only thing unsure is who will off me. So thanks, but no thanks.”

More pointed silence, then:  
“You know, it’s rude to interrupt people like that. I was going to offer you a temping job. If one of our guys gets it while we had him or her on a job, we call you with the details. Don’t like the target, don’t take the job.” The smugness had all but vanished.   
This was a guy talking business now.  
“You see, ever since Uriel disappeared on us... mid job I might add. Which he admittedly botched and now the target is in the wind, but I digress. Ever since that, we have had trouble getting people to really commit to us,” Crowley admitted.

Dean scoffed, earning him a raised eyebrow from Bobby, who had come to see where he went.  
“Gee, Crowley, I wonder why. Not like our job is risk free to start with, but with the threat of having other professionals on your ass, working corporate just isn’t that appealing. But I’ll think about it. Call me back next week.”  
He hung up, shaking his head.  
Bobby made his way over, surreptitiously checking they wouldn’t be overheard.  
“Crowley? Did you really just say Crowley?”  
Pocketing his phone, Dean looked at him quizzically.  
“Yeah, smarmy dick, works for D.E.V.I.L. Why? You know him?”

Bobby’s mouth near disappeared in his scruff with how serious he looked.  
“Yeah. Me an’ that idjet go back a while. He used to be my nemesis, of sorts. Popped up at hits I had, tryin’ ta steal my thunder. And my fee. It was his partner, Azazel, who offed yer daddy, trying to impress Fergus.”  
Dean couldn’t help himself. He snorted out a laugh.  
“Fergus? Are you kidding me? Fergus Crowley?”  
The look Bobby sent him spelled out ‘Ye’re an idjet, ya know that, don’tcha?’  
“Of course not. Fergus MacLeod. I happen to know him from highschool. Crowley is his business name. I don’t know many in our field of work that use their real names.”  
Thinking about that, something occurred to Dean, and he smirked devilishly.  
“I hope one of them did... Crowley mentioned one Uriel, who had disappeared on them mid job. If he used his real name... I might just have inadvertently avenged Cas a bit.”

Eyebrows disappearing under his tatty cap, Bobby stared at him.  
“That dick cousin of him, that bashed him and got his ass shipped to Korea. His name was Uriel too. Now I don’t know much, but I know that name ain’t that common,” Dean explained.  
Rubbing a hand over his scritchy scruff, Bobby hummed.  
“True, but that’s not what I was surprised about. One, you just admitted to breaking your own rule of not killing anyone who didn’t deserve it. Uriel was just a hired hand, a tool. And two: you said Cas’ name without looking like you’d rather go out and get shitfaced.”

Annoyed that Bobby defended Uriel the junkless, Dean crossed his arms.  
“Well, one: he was going for a harmless suburban lady. Wish I could’ve stopped him before he pulled that trigger. He looked way to happy about the kill. And two: Yeah. I did. I made peace with him... it. I made peace with it.”  
Bobby hummed again.  
“Well, far be it from me to tell ya what to do, boy, but be careful selling yer soul to that demon.”  
Dean scoffed and smirked before opening the door.  
“Well, I’m headed south anyway. Maybe a deal will have end me up on one of the fancier racks.”  
Bobby smacked the back of Dean’s head with the tatty cap.  
“Idjet.”  
It sounded fond.


	22. Chapter 22

Cas sat on a bench near the homeless shelter and played with the piece of paper, flipping it over and over between his nimble fingers.  
A flash, far off in the sky, broke the trance he was in. If it was going to rain, he’d better get his butt in gear.  
He opened his phone and with swift and sure fingers tapped in the number on the paper.  
It rang once, twice, then a chipper voice picked up and Cas’ heart filled with warmth and longing.  
He’d missed that voice.

“Yello! What’s the trouble, and who can I save today?”  
Cas bit back a sob.  
“Gabey....”  
A gasp, then a sound like a whimper.  
“Cassie? Is that really you? You’re ok?” Gabriel sounded like he wanted to crawl through the phone and burrow in Cas’ arms.  
“I’m alive and relatively well, thank you for asking,” Cas stiffly replied. Some Denizens of the shelter were eyeing him in suspicion.  
“Ok. So, they failed. Good to know.” his brother said, obviously more alone than Cas was.  
Cas frowned in annoyance. This was not how he’d thought this would be.  
“You knew. You fucking _knew_?! Gabriel...”

Gabriel tutted him, like they were still in elementary school.  
“Tutut, Cassie. Yes, I knew they were on to you, but I didn’t have a clue where you were. You’re good at blending in. You’re like sugar in tea, you dissolve... Any who. You caught them out. Good on you. I want the full thrilling story later. For now... are you at the place?”  
The lecture, the verbal diarrhea, it was like no time had passed.  
“Yes. I’m there,” Cas answered, just as easily falling into their old pattern.  
“Goody two shoes! I’m picking you up, bucko. Be there in five!” Gabriel all but yodeled before he unceremoniously hung up.  
Troubled mind eased slightly, loath though he was to admit it, Cas leaned back, waiting for his big brother.  
Who arrived in a wall of sounds, smells and light.

It started with the sounds. The roar of a sportswagon ripped the peaceful night assunder, followed by wailing guitar riffs.  
Then the headlights hit Cas, glinting off the wet tarmac, shrouding him in their light.  
And last but most annoying, the smells. Burnt rubber, overheated clutch plates and some heavy cologne blended together into a full frontal assault on the nostrils.  
Cas blinked and tried not to gag as he stupidly stared at the ostentatiously red convertible car that stood in front of him, quietly ticking as its engine cooled.  
Gabriel hopped out, two almost identical girls giggling at him from the backseat.  
“Hey bro! How’s it hanging?” he grinned with a wink.

But Cas knew his brother, read the tense lines in his shoulders, the brief flicker of worry on his face and the soul deep loneliness in his golden eyes. They’d address all of those. Later.  
“I’m ok,” he answered, picking up his duffle and the single box of items he’d salvaged from his life as Emanuel.  
“Goody. Hop in. Girls, meet my bro. Bro, meet the ladies.” Gabriel waggled his eyebrows ridiculously as he got back behind the wheel.  
Cas gave them a perfunctionary glance. “Hello. I do hope you have a jacket or the likes with you. It is about to rain.”  
Faux-desperate, Gabriel thunked against the seat. “Really? That’s all you’re gonna say?”  
Cas glared at him, knowing it was all a big show, so his eyes didn’t carry the heat his argument did.  
“I have been kicked out, with only these bits and pieces, I’m cold and hungry, and, oh, that’s right... gay! Remember?”  
Gabriel winked at him, threw the lovely ladies an apologetic shrug and the car roared to life around them.  
“Let’s get on with life, baby bro!” he yelled at the top of his lungs, and made a couple of of donuts before zooming off, the girls squealing in delighted fright.

It took him a month or so to find his new, invisible niche, but he found it.  
An apartment in an unremarkable part of town, curtesy of Gabriel and his many, many connections, a job with irregular hours, and yet another name to respond to.  
He still did his vigilante stuff. After nearly a decade, it was hard to not plan a day shift when Meg called, and make sure those self-absorbed jackasses got their just desserts.  
Gabriel sure didn’t fault him for it.  
Although they hardly spoke, and sure as Hell didn’t meet up.  
Until need forced them.

“Hey, baby bro.” And there it was, that undertone of seriousness, that meant Gabe was not alone, but wanted to be, and he needed to be with Cas.  
“Hello brother. I have a shift in fifteen minutes, so I’m about to leave,” Cas answered in stiff, formal tones.  
“Aw. C’mon man! We hardly talk anymore!” Gabriel whined, letting him know he got the code.  
Smiling, Cas pulled on his deep blue vest.  
“No, I really have to leave. My shift may start in fifteen, but I wanted to clear out the back room before taking over the register.”  
A huge, fake, put-upon sigh, another sign Gabriel got his message.  
“Fine. Have it your way. See ya later, loser,” he groused and hung up.  
“Oh... key,” Cas played out the scenario, for anyone who may or may not be listening.  
Great, now he had to hurry, and make sure he was at the gas-station before Gabriel.

oooOooo

Anxiety and heartache battled in his chest. Cassie had better have something sugary he could munch on, or he might just explode...  
From his car, he saw his baby brother arrive, inconspicuous in his Gas ‘n Sip uniform.  
But to him, Cassie could never not stick out. He knew him, yet he didn’t.   
Pondering the enigma that was his little brother, Gabriel waited a bit more, before slipping out of his car and walking into the shop.

“Good afternoon, sir. How may I help you?” Cassie sure as shit sounded like a detached, professionally kind attendant.  
Gabriel sighed a bit, then threw Cassie a cocky grin.  
“Yeah. You got any Twizzlers in this joint?”  
The tiny twitch of Cassie’s mouth was all the smile Gabriel could get now, but it was enough.  
“I’m unsure, sir. Please, allow me to see if we have any in the back.”  
Cassie turned and disappeared into an inconspicuous door to the side.  
Gabriel waited a bit, then slipped in after him.

“Gabriel!” Cassie tugged hum into a warm and desperate hug. “God, I missed you!”  
Scrunching up his face to not tear up, Gabriel hugged back.  
“Me too, Cassie. Me too! I hate not being around you. I worry, ya know.”  
Cassie huffed out a short laugh. “Yeah, but now you’re here. So I guess it’s time for me to worry. What’s wrong Gabriel?”  
Running a hand through his hair, Gabriel sighed.  
“It’s Sam,” he admitted low.

Castiel’s eyes widened.  
“I thought you didn’t have contact with him anymore...” he stated, tone a little accusatory.  
Grabbing a Twizzler, Gabriel rolled his eyes.  
“I don’t. It’s... UGH. I got a ‘job offer’ last night. Some dickwad lawyer, defending a rapist. He wanted me to eliminate the main witness, to be able to buy more time. Imagine the kick to my guts when Sammy smiled up from the file. Cassie... please help me out... I can’t warn him. Not without blowing my cover to bits, nor can you. And I can’t detach myself enough emotionally to get rid of the risk myself.”

Cassie drew a deep breath.  
“So you want to send in Angel. Kill off the dickwad,” he surmised.  
Tension leaving him like a cloud of smoke, blown in the wind, Gabriel smiled.  
“Exactly. They’re meeting tonight, as an alibi for both him and the asshole client. I got an address,” he added, hopeful.  
Cassie nodded once. “Text it. And rest assured. I don’t want Sam hurt either. He’s like a little brother to me.”  
Hugging Castiel fiercely, Gabriel rubbed his eyes on the ugly, blue Gas ‘n Sip vest.   
“Thanks, baby brother. Thank you so much.”  
Cassie did the mouth twitch smile again, and waved Gabriel out, with his Twizzlers.  
They played their roles, Gabriel paid, Cas nodded and said goodbye stoically.  
With a lighter heart, Gabriel hopped into his car again.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit more spicy Angel & Cat-eyes... just because I cannot let them go without the guilt... I’m evil, I know.

Sighing, he adjusted his position. His target and pal were discussing stuff in the living room.  
His target was pacing, and therefore he had trouble pegging him.  
Due to the suddenness of the hit going down, he had next to no time to scope out the area before having to act, but he managed.  
A soft noise behind him had him stiffen, then glance back along his body.  
Another black-clad figure was pulling himself up the shed roof, and he smirked under his balaclava.  
“Angel? Is that you?” he whispered.

A soft gasp and an even softer chuckle were his answer.  
The other assassin slid in place beside him, and together they filled the roof to the brim.  
“Cat-eyes... fancy meeting you here... I thought you were out,” Angel answered softly.  
Excited tingles ran through Dean. As much as he still loved Cas, this guy made him rock-hard with just his low chuckles and his presence. Not to mention the memory of their last get-together.  
“I ain’t out, Angel. Just... rogue. Not corporate anymore. I kinda like it,” he answered, loving the crinkly eyes Angel showed. “How about you then? I didn’t see your lady around. You off the grid as well?” Dean asked, feeling an irrepressible need to know.

Angel sobered, eyes trained on the house.  
“I’m here to protect someone I love... love like a brother. So, my associate isn’t here, because this is indeed a rogue action.”  
Well, wasn’t that intrigueing...  
“Which one is your target?” Dean hissed out, as both men were visible now, the attorney standing to calm his client.  
A soft hum, then a soft series of clicks as Angel assembled his own gun.  
“The attorney, Ishim deAngelo,” came the soft answer.

Dean scoffed low.  
“Huh. Imagine that. I’m here for his client, Gordon Walker. Not the same target for once.”  
He checked the men through his scope. They were sitting ducks.  
“Hey. I got this shed unlocked. Wanna synch our kills, then hide there until the coast is clear?” he offered, praying to the almighty Gods of Pie Angel would agree.  
Angel checked the targets himself, then hummed in assent.  
“Sounds like a plan. Ready?” he asked, finger curling around the trigger.  
Dean aimed, breath bated.  
“Aim...” Angel breathed.  
Dean’s mind threw up a word, and just as Angel said “Fire”, he let out an almost inaudible “Balsa.”  
Their targets dropped simultaneously, their heads blown to bits.

Hurriedly Dean and Angel disassembled their weapons, packed them and dropped to the ground.  
Before deAngelo’s wife started screaming, they were inside the shed, a lawn-chair shoved under the doorknob.  
Leaning against a wall, Angel pulled down the mouth piece of his mask, just as Dean pulled his balaclava free from his own mouth.  
“Awesome shot, Angel,” he remarked in a whisper, adrenaline rushing through him like a freight train.  
“You too, Cat-eyes,” Angel whispered back, a small smile around his lips just visible in the dark shed.  
Dean licked his own lips, wanting to taste the other man.  
“Do you think they’ll search thoroughly enough to find us?” Angel whispered again.  
Dean boxed the other man in, arms next to the masked head, legs bracketing Angel’s thighs.  
“No... we’re a block over... so...” his eyes flicked to those enticing lips. “... as long as we’re quiet, we should be safe.”

Angel’s eyes darted between Dean’s and he swallowed hard.  
“You... you still want to...” he breathed, his hands sliding over Dean’s shirt. “Even after last time?”  
Dean tilted his head, slowly leaning in.  
“What was wrong with last time?” he wondered aloud, voice still barely audible.  
Angel shuddered out a breath as Dean latched onto his neck and sucked a mark.  
“I..I... I hurt you... your feelings...” Angel gasped.  
Dean scoffed against that warm stretch of skin.  
“Nah... ‘M cool. Just lemme...” he purred, grinding their crotches together.  
Pleasure zinged through him as he felt a tell-tale bulge against his own, and he moaned deeply.

Angel echoed that moan and his hips bucked up too.  
Alarmed at how much sound they were making, Dean used his mouth on Angel’s to mute them.  
He couldn’t stop his hips from moving though, and Angel responded in kind.  
Panting into each-others mouths, they dry-humped heavily, each caught up in the bolts of bliss travelling through them.  
“Mmmmhhhh. Angel... haven’t been this turned on in months...” Dean moaned low.  
Angel groaned, his eyes fluttered shut.  
“Uhhnnn. I’ve... never... hnnn... felt this.... horny... Cat-eyesss.”  
That confession sparked along Dean’s spine, and he bucked harder.  
“A...Angel... I.. I’m gonna.... hnnnnnn!”  
Angel just moaned low, biting his bottom lip.  
They both locked up, shuddering through their release in the dark.  
Dean was sure he just gave a prolonged gasp, not saying Cas’ name at all.

oooOooo

Finding Cat-eyes on the roof of the shed was a surprise to say the least, but a good one.  
Cas had missed him during previous jobs.  
He’d thought the guy had stopped taking jobs, or maybe he was purposely staying away from Cas, seeing how their last meeting went.  
He didn’t voice his last suspicion to Cat-eyes though, and he was glad he hadn’t when the man answered.  
“I ain’t out, Angel. Just... rogue. Not corporate anymore. I kinda like it.“ Cas had to smile. Just the affirmation that Cat-eyes wasn’t ‘out’, was the best news.

Cat-eyes wanted to know why he hadn’t seen Meg, and Cas had to look away, afraid his feeling could be read from his eyes even in this low lighting. He couldn’t show emotions.  
Although he confessed he was there to protect Sam, which might be considered emotional, since he called Sam ‘someone I love’.  
Cat-eyes took it for face value, and asked who his target was. It turned out they both had a different hit, which was actually for the best. That way the murders would remain unnoticed longer.  
Having your face splattered with someones brain does tend to make people scream.  
Cat-eyes suggested to make the hits together, then hide in the shed they were lying on.  
His body was one long line of heat against Cas’ side and Cas could barely control his voice.  
He wanted to ravage the man next to him so bad. Even though he still pined for Dean, and it made him question his morals quite a bit.

Still, he agreed with Cat-eyes, because it was simply the most prudent thing to do.  
If Cas hoped to get a chance to have more mind blowing sex with Cat-eyes, that was his problem.  
As he peered through the scope and called his ‘ready, aim, fire’, his mind supplied him with the Korean equivalents.  
For a second he thought Cat-eyes said ‘Balsa’ under his breath, but it must have been Cas’ mind playing tricks.  
Routinely, he dismantled his gun and slid the pieces in place in their case.  
Next to him, Cat-eyes did the same, and their feet hit the ground in tandem.

Adrenaline ran through his veins as they made their way into the shed.  
Cat-eyes shoved a chair under the doorknob and Cas leaned against the nearest wall, afraid his knees would give out on him.  
Once more he was in a dark shed with Cat-eyes, and he felt sweat prickle on his lip.  
His breath was burning in his throat, and to relieve it, he pulled down his mouth piece.  
Cat-eyes had freed his mouth too, and was softly complimenting him on his shot.  
It wasn’t very special, but the way they had synchronised their firing was commendable, so Cas returned the compliment in an equally low voice.  
Far away, he heard a woman scream. Probably Ishim’s wife, Cas concluded, and it made him wonder aloud how safe they were.

When Cat-eyes effectively pinned him, without even touching him, his heart started racing.  
He barely heard what Cat-eyes said, but the flick of those eyes to Cas’ lips was very clear.  
It saddened Cas that he could not see the amazing colour of those eyes now. He sought them out, trying to catch if they were darkened or not.  
He decided to go with yes, and it made his mind reel.  
Cat-eyes couldn’t be wanting a replay of last time, could he?  
When Cas dared ask that out loud, Cat-eyes came closer, asking what was wrong with last time.  
Cas wanted to answer, but the sucking, biting kiss to his neck took all his cognitive abilities.  
Somehow he had managed his answer, because Cat-eyes replied that he was ok, and proved it by tilting his hips, so Cas could feel the hard line of his obvious arousal press against his own.  
The moan that rumbled deep in Cat-eyes’ throat, triggered Cas into responding with his own.  
It was too loud in the silent shed, and it seemed Cat-eyes thought so too, because he pressed those warm lips against Cas’, effectively muting their sounds.

Those sinful hips never stopped grinding against Cas’ crotch, making him lose just about every faculty he had.  
He both blessed and cursed the fact that they had to be silent.  
Blessed it, because hot! Cursed it, because he wanted to hear those delightful sounds Cat-eyes was smothering. He wanted to be home, in his bed, Cat-eyes fucking his brains out.  
The whispered confession that he was definitely doing stuff for Cat-eyes, turned Cas on even more, and he couldn’t help his own little truth slipping out.

Cat-eyes shuddered, his hips moving faster, harder, causing that tight coil in Cas’ belly to wind up to breaking point.  
Cat-eyes was moaning deliriously, his release coming on fast too.  
Cas wanted this to be better than last time, so when he felt his climax cresting, he bit down on his lip, hard, to not moan out Dean’s name again.  
He felt Cat-eyes tumble over, shuddering, panting out a gasp that, with some imagination could be heard as “Caaasssss.”  
Cas knew it was unwise, but he latched onto it and bolted the memory down to never forget.


	24. Chapter 24

Damnit. What kind of special dirtbag was he? Jumping on Angel like that while he still loved Cas to the point of distraction.  
He definitely deserved that VIP spot on the racks.  
Angel looked thoroughly blissed out, but Dean knew they had to move soon, because far off, he heard sirens closing in, and while they were far off, they were also closer than he liked.  
He ran the tips of his fingers over the slight 5 o’clock shadow that certainly had given him some stubble burn.  
“Hey, Angel... We gotta move, pal. Cops’ll be here soon. Best if we were someplace totally different.”

Angel blinked like a sleepy cat, and damn if that wasn’t fucking cute!  
“Hm. Ok.”   
With the extra sex roughness, the man sounded eerily like Cas to Dean’s ears, but he wasn’t in any position to get stuck on that. Cops on the way and all that jazz.  
Angel adjusted himself, and blinked more. Quicker this time.  
“Right. Cops. Best avoid,” he quipped, but what Dean could see of his face was grim in the semi darkness.  
Dean nodded and pulled the chair aside.  
“Need a lift, Angel?” he tried, not really ready to part ways.  
A minute shake of his head was all Angel gave, before pulling his mask back up and disappearing in the night.

oooOooo

Damn, damn, double damn!  
Cat-eyes was right. They’d lost perspective, fooling around like teenagers at prom.  
Cas cussed himself out while he dashed to the spot where he’d stashed his bag.  
Swiftly, he got out of his black clothes, wincing at his sticky boxer-briefs.  
Then he wiped off the black face-paint thoroughly, not forgetting the little creases next to his eyes.  
He stepped out of the shrubs looking like any ordinary Joe, having a late night stroll, his bag with his black, and now filthy, clothes flattened and secured under his shirt.  
“Excuse me, sir!” a voice called, and Cas halted casually.  
“Yes, officer? May I help you?” he said, voice level.

“I was wondering... why are you out here so late?” the police officer asked, suspicion audible in his voice.  
Cas blinked once.  
“I have just finished my shift at the gas-station, sir.” He gestured at his uniform. “And seeing that it is positively balmy out for the time of the year, I wanted to have a walk before turning in.”  
The officer nodded.  
“See, there’s been a double homicide, just two blocks away. Maybe you noticed something?”  
Making sure his surprise and alarm seemed genuine, Cas pressed a hand to his mouth.  
“A double.... oh my! I’m so sorry, sir, but al I noticed was the smell of the spicebush and pines in the park. It was quiet and very relaxing. Murder... a double one too. I can’t believe it... What is happening in the world?”  
The police officer had zoned out after mentioning the smell, as it was obvious Cas had no new info for him.  
“I know, sir,” the man said, mind already elsewhere. “Terrible business. You better go home now. Stay safe.”  
Giving the two fingered salute, Cas turned away.  
“Thank you, officer. You too.”

Once he was home, he texted Gabriel once before powering down his cellphone.

**‘Brother,**

**Did you hear? There has been a double homicide on Mass.  
What is the world coming to?  
I sincerely hope you and your friends stay safe.**

**Love.’**

He got into bed and stared at the ceiling, repeating his encounter with Cat-eyes over and over in his mind.  
There was no way in any of the planes of existence, that Cas regretted any moment of it, but he did feel guilty towards Dean.  
Finally he drifted off to dreams of dark kisses and warm bodies, writhing together.

oooOooo

Carefully avoiding the cops that swarmed the neighbourhood, Dean got home.  
Sam was still sleeping soundly, no new nightmares about Walker.  
Groaning softly, Dean peeled of his jizz encrusted pants and boxers, chucking them directly into the washer.  
When he woke, he would start a cycle.  
Exhausted, he crawled into his bed, and was out in minutes.

In his dreams, filled with kisses, moans and panted words, he was kissing Cas up against the shed wall, rubbing his crotch against Cas’.  
He woke with a start, and a raging morning wood situation.   
It had only just gone down, when Sam burst into his room.  
“Jesus, Sam! Ever heard of knocking? Thought I taught you that basic people skill,” Dean groused.  
Sam’s eyes were wide, and his breathing was irregular.  
“Dean! Come look at this!” he exclaimed, tugging on Dean’s arm.

With a pretty good idea of what this was about, Dean came along, yawning and grumping all the way.  
“What, Sammy? Pantene bring out a new hair care line? What?”  
Sam threw him a first class bitchface, and pointed at the tv.  
A morning news anchor lady looked into the camera with a deadpan.  
“... no clue as to who is behind the double murder. Mr. Walker was probably at mr. deAngelo’s home to discuss the rape case against him. The court has declared that, while tragic, the demise of both men does not mean mr. Walker was innocent. With the eye witness account and the DNA evidence, he can still be convicted post mortem.”

Sam shut off the tv and turned to Dean.  
“That was about Gordon Walker and his lawyer, Dean,” Sam urged.  
Rubbing is eyes, Dean nodded. “Yeah, I got that, Sam. So, they’re both dead? Whoa. Unexpected.” He grabbed his favourite mug, the light-blue one with a pattern of little bees on it that Cas had bought him once, and poured himself a steaming cup of coffee.  
“Bright side...” Dean offered after a few sips. “He won’t be able to worm his way out of it now. Tessa can breathe easy with him gone.”  
Sam hummed. “I’ll still have to testify, I guess. But... you’re right. This is best for Tessa. So, it’s Saturday. Any plans?”  
Dean sighed and drank deeply.  
“No. I think I’m gonna tinker with Baby a bit. Wanna help?”  
Sam smiled and nodded.

“Hey, Dean... What’s this?” Sam called, breaking through Dean’s internal debate whether or not blowing and dry humping Angel was technically cheating on Cas, who he’d thought dead during the first thing and he kinda, sorta wasn’t seeing during the second.... and he was glad Sam interrupted, his head started to hurt.  
“What’s that, bud?” he called back, pretending to buff Baby’s hood.  
“This,” Sam replied, waving an old, manilla envelope.

Dean’s breath stopped for a second.   
Crap. That was the hit he never performed because of the fire....  
“Oh, nothing. Some old paperwork. Here, I’ll check it, then toss what I don’t need.”  
Sam shrugged, and handed it over.  
“Where’d you find it? I thought I trashed this years ago...” Dean casually wondered, heart thumping in his chest.  
“It was just here, in this pouch thingy on the back of your seat,” Sam clarified, waving at said pouch thingy. Of course... Dean vaguely remembered stuffing it there before abandoning Baby to check on the fire.  
“Ah... ok. Well, I’ll just go in, check this out, make us a sandwich, and we can have lunch on the driveway,” Dean played it off.  
At the mention of a sandwich, Sam perked up. “Great plan! I could use some food about now.”  
Dean ruffled his hand through Sam’s long locks and grinned at the indignant squawk he got.  
“You got it, baby bro. I’ll hold the mayo on your BLT.”  
Once inside, Dean stuffed the envelope in his assassin kit-bag.  
When Sammy was asleep tonight, he’d see who he hadn’t murdered, because of that fire.  
He made the sandwiches, and enjoyed his day off with his brother.

 


	25. Chapter 25

Cas was glad he had an evening shift this week, because it meant he could sleep in a bit.  
When he woke, he had to change his bedding, but he didn’t grumble.  
Instead he hummed Joey Scarboroug as he made his breakfast.  
Sitting down with his bowl of cereal, Cas turned on his phone again.  
It instantly beeped with a message from his brother.

**‘Hey baby bro!**

**That is horrible news... it was all over the morning editions too.  
Seems the cops are clueless, as usual.  
We should pay them in donuts, maybe then they’d man up.  
Don’t worry about me or my friends. We’re cool.  
Cousin A. says Hi.**

**Big bro.’**

Good, the police still had no idea where to look, and Samandriël was safe too.  
That was a relief.

An email notification popped up, and Cas opened it.  
It was his work schedule for the next week.  
He sighed when he saw he was on nights. No extra curricular work then.  
He just hoped their cousins would also keep that on a back burner for a bit.  
There had been an extraordinary amount of hits in the relatively low-crime city of Lawrence, and he couldn’t help but think that the fact that two of the nation’s big hitman for hire agencies having their headquarters there was a reason for that.  
If they didn’t dial that down, the police would certainly come knocking one day.  
Only bright side there: Gabriel, Samandriel and him, they were thought dead. And Cat-eyes wasn’t corporate anymore either... so anyone he really didn’t want on the cop’s radar, was safe.

He ate, rinsed his bowl and spoon, then he put on the news.  
He never forwent checking the news after he’d done a hit, and he wasn’t about to start now.  
The anchor lady of his favourite channel looked straight in the camera with her dark eyes, and Cas irrationally felt that she was looking straight into his soul.  
“...the police is almost certain these murders were committed with different weapons. One a .223 and another a .308 caliber. So either the killer had two rifles, or there were two killers. Which seems even worse, to be honest. Lately there has been a dramatic increase in murders around this usually quiet city. It makes one wonder if we’re housing a murder syndicate.”  
Cas bit his lip. This could become a thing...

“Brother! What gives me the pleasure?”  
The loud and over the top friendly yodel, had Cas pull his phone away from his ear.  
“Not alone, Gabriel? Should I call back later?” he said low, even though he was alone.  
“Don’t be silly, pal! Imma just gonna take you to the other room. Bit more quiet there,” his brother answered in the same tone he’d used for greeting Cas.  
Some rustling sounds, a door opening and closing, then Gabriel was back.  
“Cassie, what’s up? You been compromised, bro?” he asked, all jest and levity gone.  
“No, I’m fine Gabey, but an idea struck me. Did you happen to see Ms. Mosely just now?” Cas replied, still chewing his lower lip.  
Gabriel gave a negative answer, worry colouring his tone.

“She noted that there has been a dramatic increase in murders and proceeded to hint that there might be a murder syndicate in town... Our cousins better start watching themselves,” Cas explained, only to hear a thoughtful hum from the other side.  
“Cassie, they sent Uriel to kill you, you know that, don’t you? My sources told me I had to watch Alfie, and sure enough Thaddeus popped up. I got rid of him, before Alfie even got wind of it.  
And I had Ishmael on my tail. I think our dear cousins are pretty aware of our ruse. Besides, I’ve watched the news every day, and with my sources in both companies, I am fairly certain they have gone from justifiable hits to just in it for the dough. Not quite what we signed up for, is it?” Gabe sounded as disgusted as Cas felt.  
They’d sent _Uriel_ of all people.  
Not knowing what Dean had done to the sniper that shot Daphne, somehow didn’t really matter anymore. If it had been Uriel, whatever Dean had done, it probably wasn’t enough.

“Surely not. But if we snitch, we’ll get in major trouble too. We’re still in the books,” Cas reasoned.  
The tell-tale hum of a thinking Gabriel buzzed in his ear.  
“Ya know... I think we might be able to remedy that,” Gabriel mused. “I’m gonna contact Ms. Bradbury. She’s gonna love hacking into their systems.”  
Cas’ thoughts shot to another person he wanted out of those records.  
“Gabriel, could you add another person to delete?” he wavered.  
“Ohohoho! Cassie! You didn’t get it on with one of our cousins, did you?” Gabriel teased.  
Scowling at the idea Cas shook his head, even if Gabriel couldn’t see it.  
“No... gross, Gabriel.”  
Gabriel hummed again. “But they mostly employ family, bro. So who is it?”  
Cas swallowed down some bile at the thought of Cat-eyes being related to him.  
“He isn’t really on the pay roll. Just the odd job here and there. And I don’t know his real name, just an alias.” he growled low.  
“A temp? Really? They do that?” Gabriel sounded intrigued by the idea. “So, alias? I’m sure Charlie can handle that. Hit me, bro!”

Feeling his cheeks light up with a deep blush, Cas cleared his throat.  
“C...Cat-eyes. I’m fairly sure he uses that,” he all but whispered.  
Gabriel chuckled. “Cat-eyes? Wasn’t that what you called me when we met on the roof? I sense drama, and/or smutty stuff. Tell me, baby bro!”  
Rubbing his brow, Cas moaned low. “Damnit, Gabriel. Stop that,” he growled, cheeks flaming by now.  
That had Gabriel laugh out loud. “Why? This it too much fun! Does this mean you’ve stopped pining after Dean-o?”  
That hurt. He hadn’t and the fact that he and Cat-eyes had done more sexual stuff than he and Dean, was something he was severely uncomfortable with.  
“Like you would stop missing Sam, Gabriel. Don’t go there. I might be younger, but I’m also meaner. Don’t push me!” Cas snarled and hung up.  
Damnit. Why did he feel the need to protect Cat-eyes like that? All they had was some kind of adrenaline-fuelled, fuck-buddy relation. Didn’t they?  
Sinking on a chair, head in hands, Cas felt utterly lost.


	26. Chapter 26

Soft snores from the other room confirmed that Sam was down for the count.  
Dean opened the manilla envelope with a little shiver.   
Something in his gut told him this wasn’t some silly little thing. This could hit him hard.  
He pulled out the predictable folder and opened it.  
The first pages were the same legalese BS he always got, and always ignored. The good stuff was two or three pages in, with the photographs of the targets.  
As usual those were pinned to the paper face down.  
He first read the reason the targets were asked to be exterminated.  
Child trafficking. His stomach turned. Those were the worst monsters in his eyes. Children and animals were innocent and should be treated with due respect and love.  
Par for the course, there were no names given. Just targets 1, 2 and 3.  
He pulled the pictures from the paperclip and turned them over.  
Only to have the bottom drop from his stomach.

Cas’ blue eyes and sexy hair were so recognisable, as were Gabe’s golden eyes and caramel locks. He didn’t even look at the third picture, 100% sure it would be Alfie.  
This was wrong. Cas loved kids. Look at how he reacted to that Korean kid and his Dad, or the young man that called him from across the street.  
And not to mention Alfie.   
He’d seen him, Cas and Gabe work with customers who had kids with them. No way in any of the planes of existence could those three men be what the file claimed.  
Dean reread the file, front to back, and soon he found glaring holes in the stories.  
Dates set when he knew he was with Cas, or Sam with Gabe. Alfie would be working with the other brother any of those days.  
The night Dean had first gone up with Cas, was set as one where Cas would have supervised a ‘shipment’. How could he have done that, and play tonsil hockey with Dean?  
There was definitely something fishy here.  
Seeing this was an A.N.G.E.L. file, he’d have to ask someone there. Someone impartial.  
But who?

oooOoo

Once he figured Cassie had cooled, Gabriel called him again. Between then and now, he’d gotten Charlie to hack both cousins businesses.  
He’d best go tell Cassie, even if he was still a bit miffed with Gabriel.  
Yeah, the snarl about Sam had stung, but he really had deserved it.  
“What, Gabriel?” Cassie sighed, sounding totally defeated. Had he done that? That had not been his intention.  
“Cassie? I’m sorry, baby bro. I didn’t mean to hurt you...” he sincerely apologised.  
Another sigh, this one more resigned.  
“It’s ok, Gabey. Not your fault really. I overreacted. I’m sorry too. But Cat-eyes is in this business like you and I. Only those who deserve it and might get to skip because of their wealth or connections. So I think he gets a pass,” Cassie plead.  
Of course. The guy Cassie vouched for had to be a good guy, right? Gabriel pinched the corners of his eyes.  
“Alright already. Charlie is on it, bro. Promise. Even as we speak. She should get results soon. Don’t worry.”

Cassie hummed low, and as a good big bro, Gabriel sensed the tension in it.  
“If you say he’s worth the trouble, I’m glad to take it,” he reassured Castiel.  
Cassie still remained silent, and it was getting on his nerves.  
“Cassie... talk to me, bro. You’re killing me,” he begged, as he nervously unwrapped a lollipop.  
He could hear the rasp of Cassie’s stubble when he rubbed his mouth in that thoughtful way he had.  
“Sorry, Gabriel. My mind went on a tangent. I’m glad Charlie could help us out. Give her the biggest hug, will you? And tell her I’m sorry I dragged her into this. She didn’t need to know... about us being... Well, that.”  
Gabriel knew having one of the few friends Cassie had made drawn into their rotten little family-feud was bad, but she was the only one who could do the level of hacking they needed to get this done perfectly.

His laptop binged with a message.

**‘Got in, erased four files permanently, got out.  
Can’t tell if there are hard copies though. For that, you are on your own.  
Did a little digging too. Got solid evidence if you need it.  
Just give me a call.  
Peace out!  
C.’**

Relief flooding through him, Gabriel relayed the message to Cassie, who sighed.  
“Wait... did she say... evidence?” that silk over gravel voice rasped out.  
Gabriel grinned at his screen.”Yes she did, bucko. I think we might get the tools to end our family business.”  
Instead of the relieved chuckle he’d been expecting, Cassie gave a pensive hum.  
“Let’s look at it, and then decide, Gabriel. The law will want to know where this came from, and how will we explain that? Besides, she is right. Hard copies of our files may exist. So, we need to keep this can of worms shut tight for now. Agreed?”  
Pouting spectacularly, because Cassie couldn’t see it anyway, Gabriel gave in.  
“I do have my sources inside, Cassie-bean. I could try and have them burn the hard copies,” he atoned.  
Cassie hummed again, obviously thinking this through way more than Gabriel had.  
“I think that might be for the best. Then tomorrow, we can go over that evidence with Charlie,” he agreed after a while.  
Happy as a clam, Gabriel signed off and ended the call.  
Sucking on his candy-apple flavoured lollipop, he sat back and grinned.  
Payback would be such a bitch for their cousins.

oooOooo

Sipping his piping hot coffee, Dean leaned back on his chair. A tall, blonde guy, wearing a V-neck deep enough to almost see his midriff, sauntered up to his table and sat down.  
“Cat-eyes? Really?” he said with that smarmy voice and the mix of French and British accent Dean had come to loathe.  
Dean blinked and nipped his coffee once more.  
“Yeah. And you know it. You’ve seen me before, haven’t you? Balthazar?” he snapped back low.  
Balthazar smirked, his eyes crinkling up.  
“Ah! Yes I have... but at that time you didn’t use that name, did you?” came the smug answer.  
Dean bristled, but remained outwardly calm.  
“No. I didn’t. That was a.... later thing. I started using that after my last dealing with you,” he confessed.

After ordering and receiving a prosecco, the man smiled unconvincingly at him. “And you’ve built quite the reputation with it. Almost as grand as the one who calls himself ‘Angel’. Which, for our company, is a bit of a confusion maker. People phone us, hear ‘Angel’ is not in our employ, and they bail on us. We also get a lot of requests for you, Mr. ‘Cat-eyes’.”

Dean rolled his shoulders. This man was getting on his nerves.  
“So? I stopped working with your company,” he groused. “Tell them that. Tell them I don’t exist, I don’t give a flying...”  
“Tsk tsk. Language, please. We _are_ in public, after all. But that is not why you called me, is it?”  
The man was astute, he had to give him that.  
“No. It isn’t. That job. The last one. Why were these men tagged?”  
Balthazar squinted his blue-grey eyes to tiny slits and looked Dean over.  
“Hm... I like you, Cat-eyes. I know you got paid for the job. Did the transfer myself. Can you imagine my surprise when I get a call, roughly four months back, from one of our, shall we say ‘permanent employees’ that he saw target number 2 raking up leaves in suburbia? How did that happen, pray tell?”

Dean was sure his face was like hewn stone. But his insides churned.  
“I don’t know. Before I could do the hit, something tragic happened in my personal life, and I lost track of a lot of stuff. The amount on my savings account was the least of my concerns. I never really paid it mind after.” It was a blatant lie, but Dean thought he delivered it.  
Playing with his glass of fizzy wine, Balthazar pouted in thought.  
“I think I can see how that could happen,” he mused, before sipping his drink.  
He put the glass down and suddenly leaned forward, right into Dean’s personal space.  
It made him want to itch the inside of his skin.  
“See, I happen to know these three guys. _Personally_. And I know the ridiculous, cockamamy story the company drummed up to convince you to let them have an ‘accident’. Believe me, mr. Cat-eyes, when I say that none of these men would even dream of doing anything like that. My... bosses, were just upset with the three of them, since they were not doing as they were told.”  
Dean gaped at the smarmy bastard.

“You’re kidding, right? They didn’t do what some asshat in a five-hundred dollar suit told them to do, so they got put on a _hitlist_?!” Dean hissed low, glancing around to see if they were still talking privately.  
Balthazar clapped his hands mockingly. “Brava... you got it, you smart man,” he snarked condescendingly. “Naturally, I was less than pleased with the proceedings, so I gave target 1 a little heads up. Gave them a chance to... how would you probably say that... vamoose?”  
He held up a finger when his phone started buzzing. “Hold on, please. This might be important. Hello?” he said as he turned from Dean a bit.

Dean looked away pointedly, showing he wasn’t listening, but it got very hard to ignore the raised voice.  
“I’m sorry, boys. Do I _look_ like a manservant to you? No? Then _quit ringing for me, please!_  It’s getting quite annoying, to be frank. Yes. Yes, I know. Ok. Toodles!”  
With a flourish, Balthazar pocketed his phone again. “Now then, where were we? Ah yes... that one job... See, my dear man, I knew the hit hadn’t taken place, because I had warned the targets.  
But it is not like the company would miss that money. We’re plenty rich. That amount wouldn’t even put a dent in our accounts. So I thought if I gave you the promised fee, the boys upstairs would never go digging deeper. It held for over two years. I’m rather proud of it, to be honest.”

Dean licked his lips, then rubbed his mouth.  
This guy was really pushing all the wrong buttons, even if he did save Cas, Gabe and Alfie.  
“Right. Ok. Well... Thanks for clearing that up for me, Balthazar. I’m gonna go now. If you ever see the erm... targets again... tell ’em... Tell ‘em to stay safe. Ok?”   
Dean awkwardly rose and left, keeping his eye on the guy that sat there, utterly relaxed, sunshine sparkling in his blonde hair and his wine as he sipped it.  
Balthazar raised an eyebrow and smirked, toasting Dean mockingly with his prosecco.  
“Toodles, Ken-doll.” he chimed and grinned.  
Dean growled, turned and left the man to his own devices.


	27. Chapter 27

Gabriel was worried. He hadn’t heard from Balthazar for a while, and he really wanted to know if all had gone according to plan.  
He bit his cheeks for a while, going on with his fake-ass life, but it was wearing thin.  
If the family businesses were gone.... he, and Cassie and Alfie could get their own life back.  
Stop being Olaf Dinson, Steve Milton and Matt Pike. Get back to being Gabriel, Castiel and Samandriel.  
Find Sammy, climb that Moose-man like the tree he was and get down and dirty with him. Muss up that perfect do.  
It was torture to not wake to that sunshine smile!  
Oh, and Cassie could find his Dean-bean too, be happy.  
Maybe move some furniture around, finally pop his cherry.  
Ultimately Gabriel cracked and called the guy, middle of the day.

“Balthy?” he asked when the answering “Hello?” was curt and snippy.  
“How are you getting along with our little project?”  
Balthazar sighed, then got all snarky about not being a manservant. Geez, ask a guy to do something once... Maybe he still held a grudge because of the appelcider vinegar in his whiskey decanter... heck, that was ages ago!  
Gabriel emphasised the importance of stealth and haste once again, only to get snipped at more, and cut off with a falsely cheery ‘Toodles’.  
It seemed Balthy was not as alone as Gabe had thought. Raspberries.

Not five minutes later, his phone started playing Queen’s ‘Killer Queen’, the ringtone for Balthazar’s private number.  
“Balthy! Alone already? You’re losing your touch, cous,” he quipped as he picked up.  
Balthazar scoffed. “Oh do grow up a bit, Gabriel. My company was purely business. And you should be glad he was.”  
That pulled Gabriel up short.  
“Why?” he asked in suspicion.  
With a long groan, which had Gabriel picture his overseas cousin lounging back with some glass of sparkly wine, Balthazar played for time.  
“Quit it, Balthy. Why should I be glad?” Gabriel demanded to know.  
Chuckling, Balthazar answered.  
“Because, Gabriel dear, I was having a lovely little chat with a Mr. Cat-eyes. Ring any bells?”

Ice flooded his veins. This was bad, very bad.  
“Why would you seek him out? Do you _want_ this to bite us in the ass?” Gabriel fumed.  
He balled his fist so tight, he snapped his lollipop stick in two.  
“Oh get your knickers out of that twist, Gabriel,” Balthazar drawled. “He found me. Wanted to have some questions answered. Seems he was the one assigned to take you out, the first time.”  
Gabriel blinked. “Wait... what?”  
And Cassie trusted him. This was so, so bad!  
More of those infuriatingly superior sounding chuckles.  
“Yes. Of course I was the one who gave him your files, but... he didn’t go by that name at the time sweetheart, so I didn’t know, alright?” Balthazar pointed out. “Besides, he seemed genuinely appalled that you’d be put on a hitlist because of ‘not listening to the boss’. I think he’s a good egg. Just fell into the wrong crowd. I’m very close to eliminating the existence of the three files at A.N.G.E.L. So don’t worry. All will be fine.”

Gabriel hoped his cousin was right.  
“Wait... he wasn’t using that name then? Then what the Hell name did he use?” he wondered aloud.  
He could almost hear Balthazar’s smug smile through the phone.  
“Oh, I know, dear cousin. Do you want to know too?” he queried.  
If Sam had been able to see Gabriel’s face now, he’d have been proud of the bitchface the normally cheerful guy was sporting.  
“No, Balthy, I love having this sword hanging over me,” he sneered. “Of course I want to know, smartass!”  
Sounding completely unimpressed, Balthazar hummed.  
“You don’t have to be rude about it, Gabriel. Since I’m in such a good mood, I will divulge his name to you.”  
Biting his knuckles to not scream at his cousin, Gabriel waited.  
“His name, oh cousin mine, is Winchester., Balthazar drawled.  
Clutching his phone so hard it creaked, Gabriel gasped.  
It couldn’t be... not his Sammy... that giant was too gentle to be in _their_ line of work, or was that all just a front, a lie?

“Gabriel? Are you still there? Are you ok? Is there something about Dean Winchester that makes you freak out?”  
All tension flowed out of Gabriel’s muscles, and he sank into a chair.  
Dean, not his Sammy. Of course not. Whew... wait a minute...  
“Did you really just say Dean Winchester? Big, handsome guy, greenest eyes to ever green? Bit of a grump, but fun in his own way?”  
Balthazar let out a surprised sound.  
“Ah! I see you two have met. Yes. He is one proficient killer. Takes the easy way, but is meticulous and uncaught as of yet. But I’m sure you know the reputation of Cat-eyes as well as I do. He is almost on par with Angel. And I mean the rogue, vigilante, lone-wolf guy. Not our cousin Michael’s acronym.”

Intrigued in spite of himself, Gabriel pressed his phone closer to his ear.  
“Do you know who he is too?” he whispered, falsely hopeful, trying to keep Cassie safe.  
A mournful sigh crackled in his ear.  
“Sadly, no. And I didn’t know Mr. Winchester and Mr. Cat-eyes are one and the same before we met this afternoon,” came the answer, and despite knowing the chance was slim, Gabriel was relieved.  
“Ah, raspberries. I would love to know who that is. Maybe learn a few things from him.” he dreamed aloud.  
Balthazar laughed. “Yes. Not for me, thank you. I’ll be the dumb clerk, who just calls idiots like you up and sends them on their merry way. Much safer. Well, do tell Cassie I said Hi. I care for you two silly sods. Take care now. Byebye.”  
There was something there. Right there in that last bit. Balthazar was withholding something, Gabriel was sure of it.

“Balthy, wait...” he cried out before the other could end the call.  
“What, dear cousin? Something?”  
Again, the unsaid words were louder than the actual sentence. Balthy had something, knew something and it didn’t bode well for Gabriel.  
“What do you know, Balthazar? You know something that’s gonna bite my ass, I can smell it.” Gabriel insisted.  
Again Balthazar laughed, and it made the sense of foreboding even stronger. Gabriel could almost touch it.  
“You’re being very paranoid today, Gabriel... Well. Wish Cassie luck in the dating scene. I know he has been alone for quite some time now. The Allen girl didn’t really count, did she?”

And there it was.  
Balthazar knew Dean and Cas had been a thing, and he knew that Cassie had requested Cat-eyes removal from the files. But Cassie didn’t know Dean was Cat-eyes.... did he? But now Gabriel did, and would he, no, _could_ he tell Cassie? Would Castiel be ok with it, or would his brother’s brain break? Gabriel was stuck between a rock and a hard place, and Balthazar was fully aware!

Gabriel cussed up a blue streak, much to Balthazar’s entertainment.  
“You fucker! You pompous, self-centered asswipe! I should find a bow and a sprig of mistletoe and shoot you with it!” Gabriel fumed. “Why? Why would you do this to me? Is it the appelcider vinegar thing? Because I have apologised for that!”  
The most infuriating thing about this all, was how calm Balthazar remained.  
“Oh no, dearest cousin. Not the vinegar. No. It’s about basically everything. Every silly little prank you’ve ever pulled on me. That, plus the fact that you got the full ride in assassin-school, and I got pushed off to a desk job,” he countered smoothly.

“But you just said you’re happy being safe...” Gabriel objected.  
That got him a soft little hum, a hint of amusement in it.  
“I know I did, because I am. But it has taken me a while to get to terms, so to say. I was quite ticked off for a long time, cousin dear. So, call me a sore loser if you want, but this opportunity to cause you some severe discomfort was way to good to pass up. Got to go. Lunch-break is definitely over. Cheers, cousin!”  
Gabriel was left gaping at his phone.


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To quote our dear King of Hell: I sense drama!

Cas didn’t hate his nightshifts. The pay was good, and there were not too many customers.  
Especially in the wee hours of the night, things were quiet, and Cas got the chance to daydream a bit.   
It was disturbing how often those thoughts had started drifting into NSFW territory lately.  
Right now he was trying not to think about how, if Dean ever walked through the doors of this out-of-the-way Gas ‘n Sip, he would get Dean in the back and finally do what he’d been wanting to do ever since the first time Dean came home with him. He’d get Dean naked, sweating and panting his name.  
Damnit! Glad the shop was empty for now, he willed down his boner. So not the time for this.  
He stirred his coffee. It was black, no sugar, but the stirring cooled the near incandescent liquid faster.  
As he started to lick the wooden stirrer, his eye caught a glint where there shouldn’t be one.  
He slowed his movement, so he could try and catch it again without obviously staring.

oooOooo

D.E.V.I.L. had called again, and Crowley, annoying and smug as his ass was, had given Dean an offer he’d taken. Seems Remiel had gone poof during a simple take down, but Dean would have to move fast. Like ‘be there within the hour or the target goes home and won’t be there anymore for a while’ fast.  
He was lying on his belly on the roof of an old apartment building, just three stories high and he was trying to get a good view of his target.  
Crowley had just told him it was the guy on nightshift, so he kept his eye out for the telltale uniform and waited until he could get a good look.  
He saw the guy at the coffee machine, getting a black coffee, and he sniggered as the man took one of the wooden stirrers, and plunked it in his cup.

It made Dean think of Cas, who always declared gas station coffee too hot and would stir it to cool it faster.  
Something in the back of Dean’s head started giving off flashes of deep red light.  
It shouldn’t be...  
The man stood partially turned away from him, but turned ever so slowly and the deep blue eyes that met his own through the scope punched the breath out of him.  
Within moments he was down the building, gun dismantled and in its case, and already struggling to get his flannel button-up and leather jacket on.

oooOooo

The bell to the door chimed and Cas stopped trying to find the source of that unnatural glint.  
He plastered on his serving smile and turned to the door, greeting already tumbling out before his brain caught up with his eyes.  
“Hello... Dean?!”   
It couldn’t be. Why in all of creation would Dean wander into this particular Gas ‘n Sip?  
Dean smiled widely, but Cas seemed to detect a certain tension in his stance.  
“Heya...” Those green eyes darted to Cas’ chest, read the name and snapped back to Cas’ face. “...Steve. Warm night, eh?”  
Throat bone dry, Cas tried to smile, but he was certain it came off more as a grimace.  
“Dean... what are you doing here?” Cas hissed, desperate. His cover couldn’t be blown again, could it?

Dean glanced easily around the store, then grabbed Cas by the biceps and steered him towards the back room.  
“Let’s talk, Castiel. We need to talk,” he said pleasantly, but low.  
Cas nodded once, then punched in the code for the lock.  
It clicked and Dean gently, but forcefully, pushed him inside.  
When the door slid shut again, Dean let go of his arm and Cas rubbed the spot.   
“Did I hurt you? I’m sorry,” Dean said, his voice sincere, but distant.  
Feeling like his heart had jumped to his throat, swollen to twice its size and was now obstructing his airways, Cas blinked.  
“Dean...” hearing the longing in his own voice, Cas cringed and shut his mouth and eyes.  
When he opened his eyes again, Dean was deep in his personal space, green eyes unreadable.  
“Cas... what the Hell did you do?” he asked, his voice level, his eyes hard.

oooOooo

Heart thumping, Dean made his way inside the brightly lit shop.  
“Cas”, his heart called with every beat.  
The clerk turned around as the bell chimed, and Dean’s heart kicked in triple time.  
“Cas-Cas...Cas-Cas...Cas-Cas.” was its rhythm.  
That gravelly voice started a greeting, only to punch out Dean’s name in disbelief.  
Steeling his heart and nerves, Dean plastered on a smile.  
“Heya...” He quickly checked the name on Cas’ badge. “...Steve.”  
Cas’ mouth quirked at the corners, but it didn’t really form that amazing smile of his.  
The desperation in those deep blue eyes was echoed in Cas’ voice when he asked Dean in a hiss what he was doing here.

It hurt. It frikking _hurt_. The slightly accusing tone, the disbelief. Why wouldn’t Dean walk into a gas station, even if it was at two thirty in the night?  
Giving the store a cursory glance, even though he was fully aware they were alone, Dean checked all the camera’s, noting which were blinking, and which weren’t.  
The one facing the door off to the side, where Dean guessed the stock was kept, turned around in a slow arch from the register to the door. Which meant there was a full thirty seconds where it didn’t cover the door.  
He grabbed Cas by the arm and pushed him towards that door, whilst telling him they had to talk.  
Understatement, really.

Cas had somehow managed to blip the respective radars of A.N.G.E.L. and D.E.V.I.L. How the Hell had he done that?   
What did he do to make the city’s two major murder companies both aim their sights at him?  
Was he that good at acting, that Dean hadn’t noticed anything?   
Sure, there was this hint of danger hanging around him like a dark cloak, but some people just have that.   
Usually it means they are people you don’t want to piss off.   
Dean had seen it with the sweetest soccer-moms, or peaceful hippie guys, who were tending their flower garden. It meant they would protect their own.  
But did Cas fall under that category? Or was he really dangerous?

He let go of Cas as soon as the door clicked shut.  
Cas absentmindedly rubbed where Dean had gripped him, and guilt bubbled low in Dean’s stomach.  
He apologised, but his mind was still on the subject of how dangerous Cas really was.  
Cas blinked those baby blues, and Dean could see a constellation of tears on those long lashes.   
It made his heart cringe.  
“Dean...” Cas said, his gravelly voice even more sexy with the longing in it. Even though Dean didn’t want it, his heart cried out to console Cas.  
Instead, Dean stepped real close to him, arms against the wall next to Cas’ head, to make sure he could read those blue eyes properly.  
When Cas opened his eyes again, he gave a small gasp of surprise, and Dean had to lock away all his feelings to not throw his questions away and kiss Cas like he wanted to.   
“Cas... what the Hell did you do?” he growled instead, voice void of anything remotely resembling emotion.

Boxed in between Dean’s arms, Cas tilted his head in that adorable, bird-like way.  
It completely shattered Dean’s walls, and he lost it.  
He moaned, pressed his lips to those eternally slightly chapped lips and forgot the world.  
This was Cas. That taste. No-one in any of the planes of existence could compare. Not even Angel... Did he? No, Angel had tasted like mint.  
Trying to will his mind back on track, Dean started to pull back, but suddenly Cas had his arms around his neck and those pink lips chased Dean’s until they met again.  
Cas moaned and Dean forgot whatever he was trying to do.   
Instead he melted into the kiss and groaned long and deep.

Lack of oxygen had them pulling apart, but Cas had his hands under Dean’s shirt somehow and they roamed over his back.  
“Mmm Dean...” Cas sighed, his eyes hooded and dark. “Missed you...”  
Dean’s heart clenched.  
“Missed you too, Honeybee.”  
His hands slid up over the buttons of that stupid blue vest, popping hem both, then he slid the vest off Cas’ shoulders and damn, had Cas filled out? Those shoulders felt solid, and sexy as fuck.  
He needed to feel the muscle play, to feel skin under his palms.  
He slipped his hands under the ridiculous sweater with the grey and burgundy stripes, only to encounter another layer.

Growling, Dean pulled the sweater over Cas’ head, making his messy hair even worse.  
“Damnit, Cas. What’s with the layers?” he demanded low, grabbing the white T-shirt and pulling it out of the faded jeans.  
Cas gasped, cheeks tinted pink in arousal. “I...it gets... gets cold... at... at night, Dean.”  
His lips to Cas’ ear, Dean hummed low, then growled deeply.  
“I don’t like it... want you naked, Cas. Wanna kiss your chest, your back, your everything... get naked for me, Cas. Please...”  
Cas moaned and pulled off his shirt in a single fluid move.  
“You too... Dean... want you...” Cas groaned low.  
No need for further explanations, Dean shucked off leather and flannel in one shrug, then his eyes caught something... a freckle, just shy of Cas’ right nipple.

It couldn’t be. Coincidence. That was what it was. Angel probably had the freckle on the other side, or higher up. Dean hadn’t even seen it very well in that dark shed.  
Shaking his head slightly, he bent down and licked that nipple.  
“AH!” Cas gasped, pressing his chest against Dean’s mouth.  
“Like that, huh Cas?” Dean hummed, lips still hovering over the little nub, breath ghosting over it.  
Cas hummed. “More, Dean, please!”  
He could do that. He could definitely do that.  
He sucked the nipple between his lips, then softly bit down with his canines.  
Cas’ head thudded against the wall as he bucked.  
“DEAN!” he howled.  
Quick as a snake-strike, Dean put his hand over Cas’ mouth, locking eyes.  
“Sssshhhh. Shshsh... Cas... we still need to be quiet. We need to hear the bell...”

Cas writhed, lust blowing his pupils so wide there was just a sliver of deep, dark blue left in his eyes.  
Dean kept their gazes locked, trying to get an answer just by looking at Cas.  
Breathing heavily, Cas finally nodded.  
His arms moved, hands reaching for Dean’s head.  
Curious, Dean let go.  
“Dean... please... want you.... Enough going slow...” Cas rasped low, his voice wrecked and even sexier.  
The slender fingers took hold of Dean’s head and Cas pulled him in for a kiss.  
When he slid his tongue over the seam of Dean’s mouth, Dean moaned deeply and opened up.  
They melted into the kiss, tongues sliding, teeth nipping, breath mingling.  
Dean felt his head swim, and pulled back.  
Panting, he studied Cas’ face. That beautiful, beloved face he had to miss for over two and a half years.  
Cas slowly opened his eyes, the tiny corona of blue dark and still dwindling.  
Swallowing, Dean decided to throw caution to the winds. He had been away from this man too long. He wanted. He wanted so much.

His hands easily took care of Cas’ belt and the button and zipper of his jeans.  
With a gasp Cas threw his head back when the bulge behind the zipper teeth was released.  
Yeah, Dean wanted that. He needed that.  
He cupped Cas through his underwear and smirked when Cas whimpered.  
“Gonna blow you, Castiel. Said I would, didn’t I?” he growled, mouth watering at the mere thought.  
Silently, Cas nodded, lower lip caught beneath pearly white teeth.  
Dean pulled the jeans and the boxer-briefs down in one motion.  
“Just so you know, Cas...” he murmured, sinking to his knees. “I love sucking cock.”  
Cas keened softly and his hands moved to Dean’s shoulders.

Taking that as a go-ahead, Dean licked his lips, eyes on Cas’ twitching member.  
He lapped at the tip, just to get a feel of the situation.  
“Dean..” Cas whispered reverently and his right hand slid to Dean’s hair where restless fingers played with the short strands.  
Oh yeah... this was just perfect.  
Dean lapped some more, eliciting soft sounds from Cas, then he just slid his mouth over the warm flesh and for the first time ever, Dean heard Cas swear.  
“Fuck! Dean! Hnnng!” he groaned.  
Holy Hell! That was hot!  
Dean bobbed his head expertly and pressed his tongue against Cas’ shaft.  
The hand on his head tightened, and Dean relished the feel of Cas pulling softly at his hair.

He remembered how Angel had his hands on Dean’s head, but he’d been wearing that balaclava, so no hair pulling.  
This was so much better. Everything was so much better.  
He glanced up and his heart stopped for a second.  
Something dark showed on the underside of Cas’ arms, something looking suspiciously like black feathers.


	29. Chapter 29

Breathing hard, Cas fought to keep quiet.  
Once again he was in a dimly lit room, albeit a slightly less dark and dingy one, and once again a man was on his knees, sucking Cas’ dick with determination.  
Only difference: this time it was Dean, his very own Dean, who was giving him this exquisite pleasure.  
His brain was slowly melting with the sensation, when all of a sudden, Dean stopped.  
Prying his eyes open, Cas saw Dean stare up at him, but not at his face.  
He was just about to ask what was wrong, when Dean moved again, taking him fully, hollowing his cheeks.  
Cas felt the top of his dick rub against the soft palate of Dean’s mouth and he groaned.  
So hot. The whole situation was so very hot.  
“Dean... hnnn Dean....” he babbled, not sure what he wanted to say.

The heat in his gut coiled tighter, close to breaking, when Dean suddenly pulled off with an obscene ‘pop’. This time Cas didn’t even have the energy to open his eyes.  
“Y’know what? I think I’m gonna fuck you.” Dean growled in his ear, and it sent bolts of pleasure and want shooting through him.  
“Please... Dean, please...”  
Roughly, Dean turned him around, placing his hands up against the wall, feet back.  
“Don’t move,” Dean commanded harshly.  
Anticipation tightened Cas’ guts, making him shiver.  
“You’re lucky I’m a good boy scout, Cas.” Dean said, rummaging around behind him.  
“I always carry lube and a rubber or two.”

_‘Oh shit... oh wow... This is really happening. Dean... he.. oh my stars....’_ Even his thoughts were babbling. Hyper aware of the movements and sounds behind him, Cas sensed Dean opening his jeans, then taking them and his underwear off, and finally tearing open something in foil.  
A soft hiss got punched out of his lover, making him almost turn around to see.  
“Eyes front, Cas,” Dean snapped, but the hand on his back was soft, almost not daring to touch.  
Another tearing sound, and then something cold and slick slid between his ass cheeks.  
He couldn’t help it. He clenched and gave a soft, but high pitched yelp.  
“Relax, Honeybee. I gotcha...” Dean purred low, pressing himself against Cas’ back, licking over his shoulder blades.  
Cas shuddered and forced himself to calm down. This was what he wanted, what he had wanted for so long now.

Dean circled his asshole with a slicked up finger, then slowly slid it over.  
Another shudder wracked through Cas.   
The tension was killing him! His breathing was shallow and ragged, his mind was slowly going offline.  
Then Dean bit the tendon in his neck and he screamed.  
“AAAH! DEAN!”  
He could feel Dean smirking against his neck.  
“Shshsh... it’s ok. Feel that?” Dean crooned softly.  
Oh... oh Yes...  
Dean had breached him while he bit down, distracting Cas thoroughly.

Now Cas could feel him, slowly pumping in and out, and... oh hells, that felt amazing.  
He tried to say so, but all that came out were soft moans and gasps.  
“Good, huh?” Dean hummed, pausing the soft kissing and nibbling across the stretch of Cas’ upper back.  
Mutely, Cas nodded.  
“Gonna be so much better. You just wait and see,” came that soft voice, and something in the back of his mind waved for attention.   
Then Dean pulled his hand and returned with two fingers, successfully distracting Cas again.

Dean made a move with his fingers, and Cas bucked, white hot tingles coursing through him like wildfire.  
“Hohmygod!” he gasped, instinctively pushing his hips back to get more.  
Sounding inordainly smug, Dean chuckled.  
“More?” he asked innocently, his hot breath ghosting over the shell of Cas’ ear.  
Pushing his hips back more, trying to get Dean to move, Cas grunted.  
“More... more, please, more... fuck me, Dean. Fuck me!” he growled, and distantly he was amazed at the things coming out of his mouth.  
Dean chuckled again, moving his fingers more and more, hitting that special place again and again.  
Cas let go. He rutted backwards, mindlessly fucking himself on Dean’s fingers, not even noticing when number three got added.  
“Fuck Dean... more... more. It isn’t enough. I want... I want...” Cas babbled, voice rough and needy.  
Dean growled deep in the back of his throat and pulled his hand free.  
Cas whimpered at the loss.

“Shit, Cas. You’re so sexy... I wanted to... but... oh fuck! You’re gonna be the death of me one day,” Dean panted to a background noise of slick sounds.  
Then his warmth was back, all over Cas’ back as his strong arms pulled Cas up against his chest.  
“I’m gonna fuck you until you come,”Dean growled into Cas’ ear, and all Cas could do was nod.  
One hand disappeared from his chest, only reappear at his butt. Cas pulled himself free to brace himself against the wall again.  
Something pressed against his hole, and Cas pushed back, causing it to slip in his slicked up and stretched out entrance.  
“HHHNNN!” Dean grunted. “So tight. Cas... so hot.”  
Cas had to agree. This was amazing. He felt so full, so ready...  
He pushed harder, causing Dean to whimper.  
“Slow down... don’t wanna hurt ya...” he whispered.

Frustrated, Cas pulled back and pushed down harder, making Dean slip in an inch further on a groan.  
“I’m done...” pull, push “...with...” pull, push harder “...going...” pull, push even deeper “... _slow_!”  
He could feel Dean’s balls bounce against his taint at the last, harsh push and Dean punched out a sound.  
“Shit...Cas...” he gasped against Cas’ back.  
Cas said nothing, just started moving.  
Dean placed his hands on Cas’ hips, hot and heavy.  
“I got this... you just enjoy the ride,” he coaxed, tightening his grip and starting up a smooth rhythm. In, out, in, out, until Cas couldn’t think anymore.

Dean tapped his ankle with a foot, pushing it aside a bit. Then the other, changing the angle of Cas’ pelvis.  
“Wha... what’re you doing?” Cas managed.  
Dean didn’t answer, but almost pulled out, just the head of his cock still in Cas.  
Cas tried to wriggle, but Dean’s hands were like a vice on his hips, keeping him still.  
Then Dean huffed out a breath and _slammed_ back in.  
That wildfire roared to life and Cas would have screamed, if Dean hadn’t slapped his hand over Cas’ mouth.  
Keeping his hand firmly over Cas’ mouth, Dean began to move, brutally pounding Cas’ ass and hitting that special spot over and over again.  
Cas’ legs shook, his arms burned with keeping him up, but he didn’t really care.  
All he knew was that he was being ravished and he fucking loved it.

Dean’s placed his hand back on Cas’ hip, his grip tightening almost painfully, and he started grunting and panting.  
“Uhn... Cas... fuck... so good... oh.. hnnnn Cas.... you’re so tight.”  
Cas barely registered any of it in the haze of lust.  
That hot coil in his gut wound tighter and tighter.  
“Hnnn! Yeah... fuck me, fuck me... harder.. harder!” Cas panted, and Dean obliged, the sound of skin on skin obscenely loud by now.  
“You like this, huh Cas? You want me to fuck you senseless? Huh? You want that, Cas?” Dean grunted as he kept pounding and pounding.  
“Yessss..yes, yesyesyesssss,” Cas hissed as he could feel his climax cresting.   
“Cat-eyyyessss! Oh FUCK!” he cried as it crashed over him.

Dean stiffened behind him, his grip definitely bruising.  
“Cas...” he panted and slammed home one last time, pulsing out his own climax.  
Cas’ legs gave out on him, and he collapsed, taking Dean with him.  
They ended up in a heap of tangled limbs on the cold, concrete floor.  
Dean slipped out of Cas, making him whine at the loss.  
Once the last tremors had left Cas, he turned around and sought out Dean’s embrace.  
“Holy shit...” Dean whispered.  
Cas hummed and snuggled down. “Agreed. For a first time, it was wild,” he murmured.  
Dean stiffened. “First... first time? You mean... you were still...”  
Humming more, Cas kissed Dean’s chest, a bit dismayed to feel cotton under his lips.  
Dean was still wearing his T-shirt.

“I was. Daphne was ace, Dean. She didn’t want sex, and I couldn’t give it to her anyway. But it was the perfect cover.”  
Dean swallowed audibly. “Cover, huh...”  
Pushing himself up, Cas turned to look at his lover.  
“Crap.. I shouldn’t have...” he started, but Dean smiled at him. Warm, honest.  
“That’s ok, Angel,” he said easily.  
Cas could feel his heart stop and his cheeks blanch.


	30. Chapter 30

Seeing the colour drain from Cas’ face was immensely satisfying.  
He’d guessed Cas was Angel, the moment he recognised the inked in feathers on his arms.  
Turning him around, and seeing those awesome, black wings, Dean had fully intended this fuck to be punishment for lying, but when Cas had started babbling, obviously blissed out on Dean’s fingers, his own need overrode his pettiness.  
Besides, not like he’d told Cas who he was either.  
When Cas cried out Dean’s own nickname, Dean knew for 100% that Cas and Angel were one and the same.

Now, Cas was staring at him like he’d sprouted a second head.  
“Wh.. what?” he gasped, voice still sex-rough.  
With a scoff, Dean sat up too.  
“I said it’s ok. Look...” He pulled his T-shirt over his head, baring his chest.  
Cas’ hand moved to his mouth, while his other reached for Dean’s chest.  
Trembling fingers traced his tattoo.  
“Cat-eyes...” Cas whispered, and Dean smiled.  
“Hiya, Angel,” he quipped.  
Cas punched out his breath, then started laughing.  
“I don’t believe it... I don’t believe it!” he giggled.

Pulling his shirt back on, Dean cleared his throat.  
“You’d better believe it. Now get dressed, Angel. We definitely still need to talk. About a lot. But we can’t let the shop go unattended any longer, now can we?”  
Cas blinked, then frowned.  
“Damnit. I hope nothing happened...”  
Dean chuckled. “Still weird to hear you use course language.”  
Messy head popping out of his sweater, Cas smiled at him.  
“I guess I never really let go, even around you. I always kept my ‘Angel’ hidden.”  
Cupping Cas’ cheek, Dean smiled warmly.  
“No need anymore, Cas. We can be totally honest with each-other now.”  
Cas smiled back, leaning into his touch.  
“Yeah. Honest. I like that,” he said low.

oooOooo

They slipped back outside when the camera was turned.   
A glance at the clock over the register told Cas they’d been in that back room for over half an hour. A quick scan of the surveillance tape showed no-one had entered the shop in that time frame.  
“Lucky us,” Dean hummed.  
Cas still couldn’t believe it. Dean was Cat-eyes. And he knew Cas was Angel.  
“Yes. Very lucky. Dean...” He took his place behind the register, as if Dean was a regular customer.  
“We still need to talk.”  
Leaning on the counter, Dean nodded.  
“I know. So, let’s start. Jump right in. How did you get targeted by both A.N.G.E.L. and D.E.V.I.L.?”

Cas knew his jaw had dropped, but give him a break. That was quite the thing to have just put out there.  
“Wow. Talk about jumping in...” he tried to laugh it off.  
Dean’s face was dead serious.  
“Not kidding, Cas. The night the restaurant burned, I’d gotten an order for 3 hits. You, Gabe and Alfie. My contact told me it was because you lot didn’t ‘listen to the bosses’. Care to enlighten me?” he asked with a hard glint in those green eyes.  
Running his hand through his hair, Cas tried to organise his thoughts.  
“I guess I will have to start at our family. See, the rivalry between A.N.G.E.L. and D.E.V.I.L. is nothing more than a sibling rivalry. Our cousin Michael runs the one, his brother Lucifer the other. They both started out as organised vigilantes for hire, which happened around the time I was in middle school. I had heard from Gabriel, who... damn... I have to call him, don’t I?”  
Dean raised his eyebrows.  
“Is he in on this?” he simply asked. Cas nodded. “Then, yeah, I’d say you have to.”  
Cas sighed. “Fuck,” he muttered, which earned him another chuckle from Dean.  
Cas glared at him, but Dean just grinned.  
“Still awesome to hear you swear, Cas,” he simply stated with a slight tilt of is head.  
That had Cas chuckling too. “Shut up,” he grumbled as he took out his phone.

oooOooo

The tones of Avicii’s ‘Brother’ filtered through his dreams and Gabriel shot up, heart pounding.  
“Cassie? Are you ok, baby bro?” he blurted out, as soon as the connection was made.  
A soft chuckle calmed his heart-rate down. If Cassie could chuckle, he wasn’t in any direct danger.  
“Calm down, Gabriel. I’m fine. But I do need you to come down here. At my workplace.”  
The Gas ‘n Sip? What was going on?  
“On my way... are you compromised?” Gabriel asked, pulling on pants.  
“I don’t know, am I compromised?” Cassie asked, and a vaguely familiar voice answered in the background.  
“Nah. You’re fine.”  
Who was that? And why did Gabriel’s gut suddenly decide getting to Cassie was even more important now?  
“Who’s that, Cassie? And of greater import... does he know?” he implored urgently.  
Cassie sighed in his typical, put-upon way. “Just get here...” he said.  
“On my way... actually..” Gabriel held his phone out to catch the double beep of his car unlocking.  
“...getting in my wheels right now.”  
He could almost hear Cassie roll his blue eyes.  
“Be careful, Gabey,” his brother said and hung up.

Flooring the gas until he reached that nondescript gas station, Gabriel bit his lip to bits in worry.  
He fishtailed onto the drive and the engine had barely shut off, when he was out and walking towards the shop.  
His heart stopped when he saw the sandy-haired figure at the counter.  
Dean smiled broadly at him and shot a two fingered salute.  
“Hiya, Gabe. Nice wheels,” he greeted in that gruff voice.  
This was bad... sooooo bad.   
He never told Cassie about his call with Balthy, or that Dean was Cat-eyes.   
This was about to blow up in his frikking face, he just knew it.

“Where’s my brother?” Gabriel demanded, worry clawing him up. If Cat-eyes had been put on Castiel... would Dean go through with the hit? Had he already?  
Dean smirked, throwing Gabriel a candy-apple flavoured lollipop.  
“Hey, Angel... Gabe’s here!” he called out as Gabriel fumbled to catch the treat.  
The toilet door opened and Castiel stepped through.  
“Oh wow... how many speed limits did you shatter, Gabriel?” his baby brother asked wryly.  
“I only started cleaning the bathroom five minutes ago.”  
Dean hummed and checked his big, black watch. “Nah... more like seven minutes, but who’s counting?”  
Severely discombobulated, Gabriel looked between the two, who were extremely at ease.  
Something snapped within him and he threw the lollipop straight across the shop, where it went through the drywall, leaving the stick protruding like an odd nail.  
“WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?!” Gabriel yelled at the top of his lungs, and he was sure the windows rattled with it.

Cassie, calm as you please, looked at the wall, then at Gabriel.   
“Seriously, Gabriel? Was that really necessary?”  
Dean put a hand on his arm and Cassie smiled at the handsome, yet annoying guy.  
“Come on, Cas. Be reasonable. He was probably worried sick about you. Look at him, hair a mess, lip bitten raw. Be nice,” Dean plead.  
“I don’t need you to fight my battles, Winchester,” Gabriel growled.  
A simple raising of those perfect eyebrows was all it got him.

“Oh, Gabriel. Grow up,” Cassie sighed and gestured at the coffee nook, where three collapsable chairs stood. “Sit. I made coffee, and I even made yours vanilla flavoured, Gabey.”  
Begrudgingly, Gabriel sank onto one of the chairs.  
“There we go,” Cassie cooed. “Care to join us, Dean?”  
With a grin, Dean swirled a chair around and sat down, arms on the backrest.  
“Floor’s all yours, Cas,” he offered, picking up a steaming paper cup.  
Cassie blushed and lowered his eyes, making Dean smile softly and if these two were getting any cuter and obviously smitten, Gabriel would have a conniption fit just out of principle.

Cassie cleared his throat, still not looking up.  
Oh this was going to be a dance around the subject. Gabriel just knew it.   
“Gabriel, we should tell him everything,” Cassie said, finally looking up.  
Or not.  
“What? Did someone slip a Mickey in your coffee, kid?” Gabriel blurted out in disbelief.  
“Being in love with him, ok, I can get that. But Cassie...”  
Dean gently put down his drink, and turned to look Gabriel straight in the eyes.  
 _‘Oh. Now I get why he’s Cat-eyes... Geez those are green!’_ Gabriel’s mind went off tangent.  
The smirk beneath those green eyes was nothing but pure mischief.  
“Shut up, Trickster,” Dean simply said, but it hit like a punch to the nuts.

oooOooo

“Dean!” Cas snapped, but Dean just shrugged and innocently blinked up at him.  
“What? Easiest way to have him behave.”  
Gabriel blankly stared at them, mouth dropped, mind obviously on static.  
“Aw... look at him, Angel. I think I broke him,” Dean cooed.  
Cas snapped his fingers in front of Gabriel’s nose and he blinked his golden eyes slowly.  
His beautiful, blue eyes worried, Cas turned back to Dean.  
“If you really broke him, Cat-eyes...” he hissed, but Dean saw the love was still there.

Finally, Gabriel shook himself free of his stupor.  
“You... what?” he fumbled, then turned his golden eyes on his brother.  
“You _know_.... how do you know?” The accusing honey eyes turned back to Dean. “You both know... Why am I the last one here to know anything?”  
It sounded like a five year old, complaining about not getting the candy he wanted, and Dean laughed.  
He’d asked Cas if Gabe was in on the whole game, and if he was, did he have a cool nickname too?  
The answer had him pleased as punch. Gabriel was actually the one who had made Dean go vigilante. Handing out just desserts, so to speak.

“We only just figured it out ourselves, Gabey,” Cas smoothed the ruffled feathers.  
Gabriel looked less pissed, but still pissed enough.  
“Just figured it out... How?” he demanded to know.  
Cas’ cheeks lit up, and even Dean had to admit he was decidedly warmer around the ears.  
Taking a deep breath, Dean bit the proverbial bullet.  
“Tattoos, Gabe. A while back, we both had the same target. But Angel here, he beat me to the punch. Only trouble...”  
Understanding dawned in Gabriel’s eyes.  
“The dog... you patched Cassie up. And saw his ink.”  
Dean nodded, not sure if going into details was smart.  
Cas sure didn’t add them.  
“And tonight... you... oh my sweet candy-corn! Did you...?” Gabriel switched his gaze from Cas to Dean and back.  
Cas turned beetroot, but whispered an affirmative.  
Grabbing his caramel coloured hair, Gabriel hung his head.  
“We’re fucked. Boned.... epically.”

Dean had to agree with him. The whole situation, funny as it may seem, was a disaster.  
“You don’t know the half of it,” he supplied.  
Golden and cerulean eyes bored into him.  
“I’m here tonight, because I’m supposed to fulfil a contract...”  
Cas gaped at him, while Gabriel got to his feet, drawing up his, unimpressive, height.  
“I’m not gonna do it, you idiot,” Dean snapped at him. “I didn’t do it two and a half years ago. Why would I start now?”  
Gabriel growled deep in his throat, and suddenly the guy was holding a long blade.  
Cas finally moved, grabbing Gabe’s hand and guiding him back to his chair.  
“And this is why we need to come clean, brother. Enough blood has been shed out of ignorance.”  
Gabriel glared at him, then at Dean.   
“Fine. He starts!” he called, placing the blade carefully on the table.


	31. Chapter 31

Gabriel knew he was being waspish, but he couldn’t help it.  
His brother and this... miscreant were having a lot of fun on his expense.  
Dean leaned back, all business now, mischief gone from those green eyes.  
“I got an order from A.N.G.E.L. on the very night you lot staged your deaths,” he said, pulling a disturbingly familiar envelope from his bag.  
It was crinkly with age, and Gabriel just knew Dean wasn’t lying.  
He opened the folder, displaying the pictures, and the reason why A.N.G.E.L. thought they deserved to die. Cas bent over Gabriel’s shoulder to read.

“Child trafficking? And you believed that?” Gabriel called out, the very thought making him nauseous.  
Dean shot him a glare. “Of course not, you pea-brain. I got the order, but didn’t feel like looking into the hit just yet. I mean... Cas and I, we just had a really nice date, I wasn’t in the mood to kill. Even if the guy handing me this was pushing for it to happen that very night.”  
He looked ashamed, green eyes on the floor.  
“He even told me the fee would be five times higher, if I did it that night. I thought about it, but decided I just wasn’t up for it. Then I saw the fire engines, and I... I forgot about the hit.”

Gabriel scoffed. You couldn’t forget an offer like that!  
Dean’s face hardened, eyes flashing.  
“I thought I’d lost my love, my pal and their sweet, innocent cousin in one fell swoop, Gabriel. Forgive me if my mind wasn’t on my second job for a bit,” he snapped. “Somehow the guys in suits thought I’d gone through, because I still got the money. I never connected the dots of a three-way hit and losing you three in a fire.”  
It sounded like he thought himself stupid.

Cas hugged Dean from behind, nuzzling his neck.  
“Who can blame you? I was there... I heard you, I saw you... and Sam. You...” his voice broke. “You were devastated... both of you. I almost broke cover to... but I couldn’t. Not without risking Gabriel and Samandriel...”   
Tears were sliding down his cheeks unheeded, and Gabriel bit his lip again, tears stinging his own eyes.  
“You... you saw them? Cassie... you were supposed to have left.” he stammered, heart breaking all over again.  
Cas aimed his shimmering, blue eyes at him.  
“I couldn’t help it. I was about to leave when I heard Dean yell my name... I couldn’t leave, Gabey. You should be glad you did.”

oooOooo

Knowing Cas had been there on that awful night, was a bit ambivalent for Dean.   
On the one hand, Cas knew what Dean had felt. Hell, he hadn’t exactly hidden his grief, had he?  
On the other hand, Cas had still walked away, even knowing just that.  
The tears that dripped onto his shoulders told Dean Cas had really hated doing it.  
He pressed his head softly against Cas’.   
“Angel... it’s ok. I don’t blame you. You had to keep your family safe. And you couldn’t trust me. You didn’t know I could relate. So this was the best option. Harsh as it may be.”  
Cas hummed low and pressed his face against Dean’s shoulder.

“Ok, fine,” Gabriel snapped. “And tonight? Did you get another envelope? You should’ve seen it was Cassie, if you had.”  
Dean threw him a look.  
“This wasn’t A.N.G.E.L. I stopped working for them after the fire. The fact that they so easily ponied up the money made me wonder about them, and I decided it would be best to not work for them anymore. Plus, I was a bit done with corporations. I wanted to be the only one accountable for my hits. That way I knew for sure they were by my standards.”  
He smiled at Gabe.  
“Your standards actually. Just desserts... Trickster.”

Gabriel quirked a quick smile.  
“Yeah. Only I’ve come to wonder about some of my hits lately. I worked for the other family business. Cassie was recruited by Michael and A.N.G.E.L. where I was roped in by Lucifer and D.E.V.I.L. Neither of us knew about the other working for the family.   
I thought Cassie was out, because he had been in Korea during most of his teens and all of his twenties, when the cousins do their recruiting.   
Anywho... when I heard about Samandriel not wanting to go into ‘business’, I thought he should get the chance. So I hid him, unintentionally making both cousins sit up and pay attention. In a bad way.   
When my contact at A.N.G.E.L. warned me about being on Mike’s shit-list, I checked in on D.E.V.I.L., finding myself, Cassie and Alfie branded cowards, traitors and free game. So I did what I had to, and started a fire.”  
He sighed, snatching another lollipop from behind the counter.  
“Guess we didn’t fool them very long, Cassie-bear.”

Dean bit his lip.  
“I guess someone happened upon Cas while he was living in suburbia, but I think they sent Uriel in for the kill. Big guy, dark skin, bald as a cueball. Scars on both cheeks?”  
Cas had stiffened at the name, but now he nodded, nose rubbing against Dean’s plaid.  
“That’s the bunny,” Gabe answered. “How’d you know?”  
Dean placed his hands over Cas’ arms, pinning him in place.  
“I caught him, trying to off Cas,” he ground out, voice level and emotionless.  
Gabriel blanched, golden eyes stark against his suddenly white face.  
“What did you do?” he whispered, anxiously twirling his candy.  
Dean looked down to the floor, not daring to look the man in the eyes.  
“I killed him. Snapped his neck.” he whispered.

Gabriel gaped, but Cas... Cas hugged him tighter and kissed him in the neck.  
“Thank you.” he whispered, causing Dean’s heart to melt.  
“You’re not shocked?” Dean wondered.  
Cas gave his neck an open mouthed kiss, teeth scraping a bit.  
“Not really. You told me there and then you’d taken care of it. I never knew how, and I found I couldn’t care what you’d done, as long as we were all safe.”  
Dean leaned his head back, pressing into his reassuring presence.

oooOooo

Hearing the protective undertone in Dean’s voice when he told them he found Uriel trying to assassinate him, did things to Cas.   
Dean might think he was being callous and detached, but Cas could sense the momma bear bearing her canines at a perceived threat.  
The fact that Dean couldn’t look at Gabriel when he admitted killing Uriel, was kind of a turn-on for Cas.   
Dean was still good, despite his questionable profession.   
But, even though Uriel technically didn’t deserve his death at that moment, Cas knew he has been a sadistic bastard, who enjoyed the pain he caused others.  
Therefore, and for the fact that the dick had beaten him for being gay, Cas couldn’t regret Dean killing his third cousin.  
He hugged Dean and kissed his neck, whispering his thanks into the collar of the soft flannel shirt.  
His Dean... the man who killed to protect him, yet was still so sweet that he’d paid for Daphne’s funeral.  
Dean thought no-one knew, but Cas was proficient enough to leave no traces when he checked Daphne’s account and found the funeral had been paid for. By an account registered to Dean.  
Love warmed Cas from his feet up to his cheeks and he reassured Dean he wasn’t shocked. The soft pressure of that sandy head against his made the world perfect.

“Not that I’m ungrateful, Dean-bean,” Gabriel said, pointing his sucker at Dean. “buuut... what in the nine realms did you do with the body?”  
Dean’s shoulders moved as if he’d shrugged.  
“Convenient building area, just off the downtown turn-off. I knew they’d been pouring foundations all day, so I gave dear old Junk-less a nice concrete casket.”  
Sliding his nose over the shell of Dean’s ear, Cas hummed.  
“That new high-rise just off Pine Ridge Plaza?” he wondered.  
Dean nodded, his hair tickling Cas softly.  
“I always hated that...” Cas mused, causing both Dean and Gabriel to burst out laughing.

They talked. Dean explaining how D.E.V.I.L. had called him in when the guy officially set on Cas had gone without a trace.  
“Remiel?” Gabriel had wondered, then turned his golden eyes on Cas. “Maybe cousin Remi was still sorry about when he accidentally stabbed you in the side.”  
Cas hummed, not convinced that was the reason Remiel had done a runner.  
“Or he was appalled at being ordered to take out family. Not sure how much he knows, really.”  
Dean was a gentle warmth, pressed against his chest, and Cas found he thought Remiel should get a reward for sneaking off. Something Dean seemed to agree on.  
“Whatever the reason, I wanna send him a fruit basket. He got us this far. To be honest, I’m done with the whole secret life.”  
Cas agreed. This life had its perks, but more, and also more pressing, drawbacks.

He was just about to say something in the regard, when the door opened with a furious clinging of the bell, and Sam stormed in.  
In a reflex, all three assassins had jumped to their feet and drawn a weapon on him.  
Dean was the first to recover.  
“Damn it, Sammy! Don’t _do_ that! We could’ve shot you!” he groused.  
Sam gaped, hazel eyes darting between each one of them, and he opened his mouth a few times as if to speak.  
“Dean... wha...” he started, then thought better of it, stalked over to Gabriel and took his face between those large hands.  
“G...Gabe?” It sounded hopeful, and fearful at the same time.  
Gabriel blinked, then smiled softly.  
“Hey there, Samshine. How’s it hanging?” he asked, voice low and full of warmth.  
Tears shone in Sam’s eyes and Cas could tell Gabriel wasn’t much better off.  
Next thing that happened had him reeling.  
Sam stepped back, face livid, and he hit Gabriel hard enough to make him stumble.


	32. Chapter 32

“Sammy! Geez!” Dean grabbed his brother around the chest and turned him around to face the empty store.  
“Let me go, Dean,” Sam growled over his shoulder, and Holy Mother did he sound fierce. For the first time ever, Dean saw something of John in his baby brother.  
Dean, however stood his ground. “No. Not until you calm down. I’m not gonna let you tear Cas and Gabe apart until you heard them out.”   
He reconsidered, then sighed and added: “and me too.”  
That bled all the tension from Sam’s broad shoulders.  
He looked over his shoulder at Dean again, and his face was oozing confusion.  
“You? Why you?”  
Judging it safe enough to let the Sasquatch go, Dean released him.  
“Sit down, Sam. I... I have a lot to tell. And I ain’t too proud of most of it.”

Sam sank on the chair Dean had vacated when the door had smashed open.  
“Dean... you know you’re my brother and I love you, and I don’t think you could ever make me stop,” Sam said, those hazel eyes in puppy mode.  
Dean hated it. He looked so hurt already.  
“Sam... you know Dad said he was a ‘guy for hire’, right?” he started, only to have Sam interrupt immediately.  
“Dean.... tell me you didn’t. You didn’t... sell yourself,” he implored.  
Gabriel bit his lip, and Cas cast Dean a curious glance.  
Rubbing his neck, Dean huffed out a breath.  
“No. ‘Course not. Where ever did you get that?”  
Pouting defiantly, Sam glared up. “I know Dad wasn’t a handyman, like he claimed, and for hire... well...”   
Seeing where Sam came from, Dean patted him reassuringly on the shoulder.  
“No, Sam, Dad wasn’t a gigolo. He was an assassin. A gun for hire. It was kind of the family thing.”

Sam’s head snapped up. “Family thing? Like father-to-son stuff? Why wasn’t I included then?”  
He couldn’t look Sam in his kaleidoscope, puppy-dog eyes, so Dean looked at the floor.  
“I begged him not to. That was our main reason for fighting like we did. I couldn’t let him mould you into some perfect little soldier, Sammy. I hated that he did it to me. Bobby stood up for me. Once I found out that some assassins...” he flicked his gaze towards Gabe for a second. “... only passed out just desserts, I exclusively wanted cases like that. And it worked. Dad never forgave me.”  
Sam nodded, face dead serious. “So that’s how we really paid my college, huh?”  
Cheeks burning, Dean nodded too. “Yeah. I never paid Bobby anything.”  
A shrewd expression appeared on Sam’s face.  
“Is there any left? I mean... you somehow got a good deal on the house.”  
Dean grinned. Smartass Sammy.  
“You got it. That house is fully paid for. And I still have savings left too.”  
Sam smirked at him, then turned serious again.  
“And them?” he asked, nodding at Cas and Gabe, the latter of whom looked hurt at the fact Sam didn’t ask him personally.  
Dean licked his lips. “You ask them that. I said my bit for now.”

oooOooo

The lick Sam got in, didn’t hurt half as much as the fact that he didn’t so much as look at Gabriel after Dean sat him down.  
“And them?” Sam asked his brother, not bothering to lift his head high enough to see either of the Novaks.  
Gabriel’s heart broke in fractals at the detached way Sam was being towards him.   
They had been a set, a pair. Gabriel had shared everything except his Trickster life.   
He had loved Sam. Still did, and to be treated as vermin, not worthy of a look, it stung like a thousand scorpions.  
Dean backed out, basically forcing his brother to interact with Gabriel, and that was a two edged sword.   
He wanted so bad to let Sam in, but he didn’t want it to be forced out of Sam.

Those amazing multi-coloured eyes finally got trained on him, and he thought he saw a glimmer of warmth flicker in them.  
“Samshine...” he said, tone begging, imploring Sam to give him a chance.  
Sam’s mouth was a thin line, a muscle ticking in his jaw.  
“Why, Gabriel?” he asked, his voice soft, heartbroken.  
“Why did I break your heart?” Gabriel returned, not able to keep his eyes on Sam long.  
The beaten-down look his love had, was tearing at him.  
Sam sighed and looked away before replying. “My heart? Gabriel, you took _everything_. My heart, my soul, my reason for breathing. Why?”  
It hurt. Oh great Gods it _hurt_. To know he was the one to destroy Sam like that.  
The impassive Trickster, the guy who stood by laughing as he watched a smuggler of exotic and venomous animals die because he sent him a gift of his own pissed off wares, was now tearing up.  
His voice broke when he tried to ask that one over important question.  
“Did.. did you...” he tried, but Sam stared him down.  
“Answer the question, Gabriel,” he demanded stoically.

Not Gabe, no other pet name. Gabriel. Detached, cold.  
Gabriel looked at his hands in his lap, trying to find a way out.  
Then a hand took his shoulder, and he looked up into sympathetic, green eyes.  
“Better answer, Gabe, I know Sammy, and he’s about to bolt if you stay silent,” Dean offered sincerely.  
A tear slid down Sam’s cheek, and he brushed it away irritably.  
That broke Gabriel. He couldn’t hurt his Samshine any further.  
Running a hand through his tousled locks, Gabriel steeled himself.  
“Well, Dean was in the family business. But so were Cassie an I. Listen... this town has two major teams in the assassinations business, and they are both run by our family. Cassie used to work for one, I for the other...”  
Sam’s face was wooden, but Gabriel could see questions building behind his eyes.  
“And we didn’t know about each other. Not until we met, trying to get the same target. Our cousins fare well on mutual dislike and competition. Anyway, that was after we all met and... dated.”   
He couldn’t say ‘fell in love’. It was giving away too much.  
Sam’s mouth tightened, but he remained quiet.

“Alfie was next up for recruitment. His mom was promised he would get a simple desk job, but I found out he was already enlisted for the most rigorous trainings. So, I offered him a normal job, saying that if Cassie could be free, so could he, not knowing Cassie wasn’t free. Anywho. The cousins found out, and they thought since Cassie lived and worked with me, he was in on it.”  
Now Sam was blanching, his stone-face crumbling.   
Relentless, Gabriel kept going. He had to, otherwise he would lose his nerve.  
“I heard from one of my contacts, that a hit had been assigned on all three of us.”  
The gasp Sam gave was soft, but Gabe caught it, and it strengthened him.  
Dean raised his hand. “I was actually given the details on that. But they said they were child traffickers.”

Sam’s head snapped around, and for the first time since Gabriel had started talking, he showed emotion. “And you _believed_ that?” he snapped at his brother.  
Dean scoffed. “Of course not! But I never knew until recently, see... I got that envelope on the night of the fire. I completely forgot about it.”  
Sam blinked. “You didn’t start that?”  
Time for Gabriel to step in again. “No. That was me. I got three unidentified bodies from city morgue, who were of our height and other specifics, then I brewed a fire hot enough to melt everything. Sammy... I had to. They would come after us, then you too. I wanted you safe. You and Dean-o. Far as I knew, you were innocents. I didn’t want you drawn into our crapfest.”  
Sam bit his lip, looking down.  
When he finally looked up, his gaze was pleading.  
“Gabriel... did you ever love me?” he asked.  
Gabriel punched out his breath.  
“Sammy, Sammich, Samshine...” he babbled. “Of course! Still do. Never stopped. Sam...”  
Sam smiled watery and finally, _finally_ got to his feet and pulled Gabriel into his strong arms.


	33. Chapter 33

Cas smiled as Sam and Gabriel were reconnecting. Very literally. And passionately.  
“Hey!” Dean snapped next to him. “We’re still here, guys!”  
Their brothers pulled apart and Sam actually stuck out his tongue.  
“Lighten up, Dean,” Gabriel teased, before trying to pull Sam back in.  
Dean growled low, causing shivers to dance down Cas’ spine.  
“You know what? Bite me, Gabriel,” Dean snarked.  
Gabriel pulled back from Sam’s lips and smirked mischievously.   
“Maybe later, big boy,” he sassed. “You and Cassie already had your make-up sex. Allow Sam and I some leeway, huh.”  
Too bad for him, that obviously reminded Sam of something other than kissing the breath from Gabriel. He pulled himself free and turned to Cas and Dean.  
“Yeah, about that...” he started, while Gabriel whined.  
“Samshine... C’mon. Can’t that wait?”

Not for the first time, did Cas think Dean and Gabriel were pretty similar, because now Dean was smirking.  
“No, it can’t, Gabe. His part lawyer brain might just be what we need to get out of the pickle we’re in,” Dean grinned.  
Of course. Sam would know what to do with the extra information Charlie got them.  
Cas hated doing this to his brother, not now he was finally smiling like he used to, but he had to agree with his boyfriend.  
“I am sorry, Gabriel, but Dean has a point,” he offered apologetically.  
Gabriel huffed and pressed Sam into a chair, before climbing in his lap.  
Obviously, he was not about to let go.  
Sam smiled indulgently and kissed Gabriel in the neck.  
“So, guys. Explain,” he said, eyes flitting between Cas and Dean.

oooOooo

“...and that’s about where you came barging in, Sammy,” Dean concluded.  
Sam sighed. It was a lot to take in, but it did explain an awful bunch of things.   
In his lap, Gabriel gave him a look.  
“Do you hate us now, Sammich?” he asked as if Sam could ever have a change of heart that big.  
He gave Gabe a kiss on the brow. “Of course not. I understand the need for secrecy, from each of you. And I don’t blame you for it. I actually am glad you’re all still ok. Sounds like your second lives are not very safe.”  
Cas nodded sincerely, his blue eyes serious. “And that’s why we want out. All of us. With the information Charlie dug up, it should be feasible.”  
Dean said nothing, his green eyes dark and brooding.  
“Dean?” Sam pried carefully, knowing his brother well enough to be careful.  
Dean’s sandy haired head shot up. “Hm?”  
“What were you thinking, Cat-eyes?” Gabe smirked. “You were miles away.”

Cas nudged his brother. “No he wasn’t. He was right there.”  
Gabriel burrowed deliciously into Sam’s chest. “Sammoose, protect me. He is assaulting me.”  
Sam snorted softly. “Shut up, Gabe. You’re perfectly capable of protecting yourself,” he grunted, but nuzzled the caramel coloured locks affectionately.  
Gabe snuggled down and sighed.  
Dean shook his head at them and turned his eyes solely at Sam.  
“Why did you come barging in like that, Sammy? And how the Hell did you even find me?”  
Sam shrugged, but the burn of his blush betrayed him.  
“I woke up with a weird feeling. Like that time just before you called... about the fire. Something was off. And I couldn’t find you.”  
Gabe kissed his cheek softly. “You had a premonition about the fire? Aw. My cute psychic Moose-man.”  
Sam kissed him on the brow before telling him fondly to shut up.  
“Still doesn’t tell me how and why you turned up here...” Dean pressed.

Sam couldn’t look him in the eye, so the table got his full attention.  
“Sammy...” Dean began, and Sam knew he had to tell.  
He cleared his throat.  
“So, get this... ever since the fire, I have made sure the GPS on your cellphone is on, and I kinda put a tracker on the car too...”  
Dean stiffened visibly. “You _what? You messed with Baby?_ ” he growled low, threateningly.  
Cas pulled him in his arms. “Dean... he did it to make sure you were safe. Can you blame him after...” His voice bled out, clearly unable to complete that sentence.  
Dean relaxed, rubbed his neck. “You’re right, Angel. I’m sorry, Sam.”  
Sam blew out a relieved breath. “That’s ok. Anyway, I fired up my laptop and tried to find you. The car was standing at a parking lot, not too far from here, but you.... you were standing in a gas station, with the car a block away... I thought it weird, but when you hadn’t returned in an hour, I checked again. No movement in either tracker, so I wanted to see what was going on.”

Dean shook his head. “Of course you did. Sam... even if I was in danger, wouldn’t coming in like you just did get you in that same danger? You hadn’t thought it through, baby brother.”  
Sam threw him a bitchface for good measure.   
“Yes I had. I was counting on the element of surprise.”  
Cas chuckled and even Gabriel shook with silent laughter.  
“Oh, my Samshine... You surprised us alright. But you got the bigger surprise. I bet you didn’t expect to see Cassie and me, nor that we, and your brother, were packing.”  
Sam loved to hear that laughter again, and to see those golden, sunshine-through-whiskey eyes twinkle with mirth.  
He kissed Gabriel on the lips.  
“Yeah, but my surprise was the best ever.”


	34. Chapter 34

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for light BDSM here.

Waking up in his big bed, with a warm body next to him, was the best feeling in the world.  
He stretched and groaned a bit before settling down again.  
“Mmmmm,” his lover, his partner, hummed, sound rumbling deep in his chest.  
“Morning, Angel.” he said, kissing those adorable, tousled locks.  
Cas opened his stunningly blue eyes and smiled sleepily.  
“Hello, Dean,” he rasped, voice sleep-rough. “You’re awake early, my love. What’s eating you?”  
Dean sighed, stroking Cas’ back absentmindedly.  
“I dunno. Maybe the tension. The suspense of not knowing when the other shoe will drop.”  
Cas pushed himself up to gaze in Dean’s eyes.  
“Turn on the news, Cat-eyes. Let’s see what ms. Mosely has to tell.”

Dean smiled, kissed him on the nose and fumbled with the remote.  
“... my assumption that time, seems to have been correct,” the chocolate warm voice of Missouri Mosely filtered through the speakers. “In a surprise raid, the Lawrence Police-force has cleared out two office buildings down town. Eyewitnesses tell us boxes of paperwork have been confiscated, and two men were arrested. Others were seen fleeing the site, but the police have informed us they will be tracked down. Officer Lafitte is with our reporter, Garth Fitzgerald. Garth...”  
The screen changed to show a lanky, good natured guy smiling at the camera.  
Cas squeezed Dean tightly and Dean kissed his hair.  
On screen the reporter had pulled in another person.  
“Hello there, Lawrence. Garth Fitzgerald the third here. On the scene with officer Benny Lafitte. Officer Lafitte, what has happened here?”

Dean smiled as the camera zoomed in on his friend.  
“Well, I’m not gonna say much, but our detectives got their hands on some evidence that our town was home base for not one, but two crime-syndicates, focussed on assassinations,” Benny said in his warm voice.  
Garth seemed to be brimming with questions, because he kept jerking the microphone back to his mouth, before pointing it at Benny again.  
“How did the police find out?” he finally blurted out once Benny had fallen silent.  
Benny smirked into the camera and Dean automatically grinned back.  
“You know I ain’t at liberty to tell y’all that, brother. Suffice it to say that the information they got was good, solid evidence, and we can safely assume these ‘businesses’ won’t be back.”  
He winked at the camera, and Garth cut back to the studio, but just before that, they saw him hug Benny, who looked surprised and a little flustered.

Dean chuckled, before shutting off the tv.  
“Poor Benny,” he said. “I know Garth through Bobby, and he is a hugger.”  
Cas hummed, eyes pensive.  
“Aw, Angel. It’s ok. You heard Benny. The police are keeping their sources secret.”  
Cas bit his lip and his eyes looked up under his dark lashes.  
“That’s not it, Dean,” he admitted, voice gruff. “How well do you know this Benny?”  
Blinking in disbelief, Dean let go of Cas, who immediately loomed over him, blue eyes locked on Dean’s.  
“He’s a good friend. Why?” Dean asked around a dry throat.  
Holy Hell, this side of Cas was hot.  
“He is quite attractive, wouldn’t you say?” Cas continued, and Dean suddenly got what was going on.  
His mischievous side reared its head.  
“Yeah. He is. In a rugged kinda way. And that voice... hmmmm like warm, red wine.”  
In a lightning quick move, Cas grabbed both of Dean’s wrists and pinned them next to his head.  
“Really? You really think so, Dean?” he growled, and that gravelly yet silken voice tripped down Dean’s spine to pool in his gut.  
Almost feeling his pupils blow out, Dean gasped.  
“Yeah...” he managed, his dick painfully hard already.   
Ok, he’d been a bit horny before, but with Cas being all possessive and dominating, that little fire got fanned to a roaring inferno.  
So, he was kind of submissive... who knew?

Cas raised his left eyebrow in an elegant, yet dominating arch and Dean nearly whimpered.  
“You like that, hm, a deep voice?” Cas growled, his already deep voice dropping.  
Swallowing hard, Dean nodded. “Yes, sir,” he breathed, automatically tagging the ‘sir’ on.  
Cas licked his lips, hovering over Dean, so close they almost kissed.  
“Sir? Really? Hmmm. I like that, Dean. Do you call Benny that too?”  
Benny? Why on the great, green Earth would Benny be involved in this? Dean’s brain was fuzzy.  
Right. Benny. Cas was jealous. And it was hot to see him like that.  
But now the fun of teasing Cas with Benny was gone, and Dean was horny as fuck. He licked his lips, not sure how to go on.  
“Dean... I asked a question,” Cas stated harshly, applying slightly more pressure on Dean’s wrists.   
Cock twitching, gut tightening, Dean moaned low.  
“N..No sir... only you.”  
Satisfied for now, Cas let up, but still held on.  
“Did you and Benny ever... hook up, Dean?” he wanted to know.  
Locking his eyes on Cas’ deep blue ones, Dean shook his head infinitesimally.  
“No, sir. I couldn’t. We’re really just friends.”

Cas hummed, then suddenly his lips were on Dean’s, rough, demanding, taking.  
Dean loved it. “Uhn.. Cas...” he moaned low when Cas moved to his neck.  
“Quiet, Dean. I need you to be quiet. Sam is two rooms over.”  
Mutely, Dean nodded, only to keen softly in his throat when Cas twirled his tongue around his earlobe.  
“Cat-eyes...” Cas hummed in his ear. “Would you mind if I found us some bonds?”  
Picturing himself bound by the wrists, at Cas’ mercy, Dean nearly came there and then.  
“Green, sir... please!” he all but whined.  
Cas got up, did that raised eyebrow again, and Holy Hellballs, did that cause Dean to shiver.  
“Stay just like this, Cat-eyes. I’m getting something,” Cas ordered.  
Breathing hard, Dean watched him in all his naked, dominant glory.  
“Yes, sir,” he said.  
Cas turned around and rummaged in his closet, only to return with the soft, plushy belt to Dean’s grey bathrobe.

While he bound Dean’s wrists together above his head, Dean shivered in anticipation.  
The bounds were soft, yet strong enough to not untie or break at the slightest tension.  
“Hmm. I like this side of you,” Cas purred as he let his hands explore all of the naked skin Dean had on display.  
“Angel...” Dean moaned when Cas rolled his nipple between his thumb and index.  
Cas leaned over, touching their brows lightly, eyes locking.  
“Cat-eyes... you’re delicious.”   
He sat back up again, his eyes an even darker blue as they roamed all over Dean.  
“And all mine...” Cas added with a satisfied little smirk.  
Swiftly, he tied the loose end of the belt to the bed frame and secured it with a double knot.  
Then he kissed Dean. Deeply, filthily and needy. When he pulled away, Dean tried to follow him with a soft whine.  
Cas looked down at Dean, his face impassive, his one brow quirked again.  
“Angel... sir... I need more, please,” Dean begged as that dominant eyebrow had him twitch hard.  
Cas’ eyes, beneath their hoods, were dark with lust.  
“In due time, Cat-eyes,” he stated, as his hands drew fiery tracks all over Dean’s torso.  
Arching up into the touch, Dean pulled on the bonds, which creaked, but held firm.  
Not being able to respond to Cas’ touch, stoked the fire in Dean’s veins higher and pulled that hot coil in his belly tighter.  
Cas kissed his belly once and Dean tightened in delight.  
So close. Cas’ mouth was so close to where Dean wanted it.  
He bucked his hips up slightly, but Cas moved up and away form his aching dick.  
It made a tiny noise come from Dean’s throat.

Cas’ face was the perfect mix of dominance and disdain, and Dean wanted a picture of it, to keep for lonely nights.  
“I’m not going to blow you, Dean. I’m not going to touch your dick. You will come for me, when I say so. Are we clear?” Cas’ voice was commanding, aloof, and all the more gravelly.  
Oh Gods! Dean whimpered softly, clamping down that fire in his belly, hard.  
“Y..Yes sir,” he managed when that eyebrow did its thing again.  
“Good,” Cas hummed, sitting himself on Dean’s thighs, effectively pinning him down even more.  
His elegant, lethal hands slid over Dean’s torso, while Cas looked contemplative.  
“I’ve been wondering.... you like talking dirty, don’t you?” he murmured, flicking a nipple.  
Dean arched up.  
“Yes sir,” he gasped, the thought of that gravelly voice using foul language riling him up.  
Nodding, Cas pinched the other nipple, making Dean cry out. “AHN! CAS!”  
Quick as a snake-strike, Cas clamped his hand over Dean’s mouth, bringing his face within an inch of Dean’s.  
“Keep silent, Dean,” he growled in Dean’s ear. “Or I’m calling quits on this.”  
Despite the fact that Cas’ cock had been standing proud from the moment he’d tied Dean up, Dean believed him. Cas had an iron will.

Behind the hand, Dean nodded, his eyes wide and lust blown.  
Cas pouted in thought. “Can you really do that, Dean, or do we need a gag?”  
Dean was panting under his hand by now, and soft noises kept escaping him.  
Cas reached out with his other hand and pulled something towards them.  
“Raise your head, Dean,” he ordered.  
Dean obliged, mind strangely blank.  
Cas let go of his mouth, to let the thing he’d grabbed slide between his two hands.  
It was blue, and silky, and Dean nodded furiously.  
With a satisfied smirk, Cas gagged Dean with the blue tie he usually wore to work.  
“There,” Cas said, his face still deadpan, but his voice satisfied.

He leaned back in, lips brushing Dean’s ear.  
“Now you’ll be quiet while I make you come so fucking hard it will hit you in the face,” he growled.  
Dean closed his eyes in delight.   
Oh yes! He tried to moan, but is was strangled and muted, and now Cas’ deadpan broke into a smug grin.  
“You’d like that, Cat-eyes? You want me to blow you? To suck your cock so hard you bust a nut? Or should I lick you open, get you nice and stretched for my dick?”  
The way Cas’ gravelly voice purred out those filthy sentences pinged down Dean’s spine to lodge into the pooling heat in his abdomen.  
“You know, I have been thinking about that. I would love to try rimming you until you don’t even remember your own name. Just mine, because you’ll be screaming it.”  
Dean shuddered, muffled moans escaping him without his consent, his mind slowly going blank again.  
“And after that,” Cas purred into his ear, “I would fuck you, Dean, until your cat-eyes roll up and you come all over yourself.”  
Dean’s whole body tensed up, but he had to wait until Cas told him he could come, that was paramount.  
“Hnnnngggg...” he moaned into the tie, making Cas smirk smugly.  
Dean shuddered with the strain of staving off his climax.  
“You want to come, don’t you, Dean?” Cas murmured low, the vibrations of it alone teetering Dean dangerously close to that edge.  
“Y’s... hnnn... C’s...” he begged. He never begged, but this side of Cas pushed all his kink-buttons just right.

Cas sat up and ran his long, elegant index finger in idle patterns over Dean’s chest, contemplating it seemed.  
“You have been very nice and good to me, haven’t you?” he mused.  
The praise made Dean’s fuzzy head even lighter.  
“Such a sweet boy for me...”  
Dean was floating. Nothing mattered anymore but being there for Cas. Making Cas happy, proud.  
That gravelly voice, softly praising him, telling him stuff he normally would rebel against, it soothed him, let him float even more.  
“You’re so beautiful, Dean, tied up like this. All for me. Only for me...” Cas’ voice told him.  
 _‘Never anybody else, Angel...’_ Dean wanted to say, but his mind was made of cotton balls and his mouth didn’t obey.  
“Dean? Dean?!”   
There was something wrong with the way Cas said his name.


	35. Chapter 35

Cas was so busy admiring the way Dean looked, all toned muscle under slightly tanned and prettily freckled skin, with a flush covering two thirds of his torso up to the tips of his ears, and his dick steadily oozing precum in little bursts, that he didn’t notice how silent Dean had gotten.  
At first he thought Dean was just trying to keep silent, like Cas had told him to.  
Cas had _told_ him to and Dean did it.   
Dean Winchester, his own man since a very young age, who made a name for himself as Cat-eyes, one of the most proficient hitmen around, obeyed Cas’ every whim.  
Damn that was a power-rush!  
But Dean didn’t respond to anything. Not when Cas deliberately strayed into possessive terms, even a bit demeaning, calling him beautiful and all Cas’...   
Surely he would protest, but those stunning, green eyes remained hooded and unfocussed, his mouth cutely agape, and Cas suddenly worried Dean was out for the count.  
He softly patted Dean’s cheek, to no avail.  
Panic soaring, Cas swallowed hard.  
“Dean? Dean?!” he tried, his heart thumping like a war-drum.  
He could hear the frenzy in his own voice, but Dean only vaguely moved his head.

Swiftly, Cas undid the bonds and the gag, lovingly rubbing Dean’s arms when he found them cold to the touch.  
Dean reacted sluggishly, smacking his lips, then slipping his tongue out slowly to wet them.  
“Cas? What’s wrong?” he slurred, his eyes opening a tiny bit more.  
Relief rushed through Cas, and he flopped on Dean, making him punch out a startled “oof!”  
“I was scared, Dean! You didn’t respond at all. You fell silent and still, and, and... I thought I’d hurt you!”  
Dean wrapped his arms slowly around Cas, and kissed his hair.  
“Heh...” he breathed, and Cas could hear the smile. “Guess I was enjoying myself so much, I checked out.”  
Strong fingers lifted Cas’ chin, and green eyes, thankfully focussed and twinkling again, locked onto Cas’ blue ones.  
“We should look into that, Angel,” Dean hummed. “I’m sorry to be a buzzkill.”  
Cas nuzzled his neck, taking in Dean’s own, unique smell.  
“That’s ok... we can end that now, or later... whichever you prefer,” he promised, fully aware Dean still had a full-on, raging boner.  
Dean hummed, as if he was contemplating it, but soon he ran his hand through Cas’ hair.  
“I liked what you did, Cas... I liked it a lot. Talk dirty to me, and maybe... jerk me off? I’m not made of fine China. I’m feeling fine, if damned horny.”  
That had Cas perk up and his flagged dick pulsed.  
“Really? Like that, huh?” he growled, delighted to see Dean shudder.  
“But if I remember correctly, I said I wouldn’t touch you. That you would come when I said so. Didn’t I?”

Dean’s eyes were so dark Cas could hardly differentiate between iris and pupil.  
“Yes, sir,” Dean said low, and damn there was that power-rush again.  
“So lie back, Cat-eyes, and listen closely...” Cas said in his most commanding voice.  
Dean relaxed into the bedding, his eyes trained on Cas.  
“Dean, I need you to say when you don’t like what I’m doing. Agreed?”  
Dean nodded, and Cas raised his eyebrow expectantly.  
Colour raced up Dean’s cheeks and he quickly licked his lips.   
“Yes, sir,” he answered, voice clear, if sex-rough.  
Unwilling to not touch Dean’s body at all, Cas ran his hands over those miles of freckled skin.  
“You’re stunning, Dean,” he admitted, wishing he could touch where Dean obviously wanted him to. But he’d issued a command, and now they were going to ride that out.  
“Next time... you tie me up. I want to know what that’s like. And then you can do as you please. Suck my dick, jerk me off, ride me like a cowboy...” Cas made sure his voice was deep and sultry.  
In his minds eye, Cas saw every scenario, and each one had him running hotter.

Dean tensed up beneath his hands, and Cas just knew he was on the cusp of his climax.  
He slid his hand so it rested lightly at the root of Dean’s neck, just a presence, no pressure at all.  
Dean arched his back, pressing up against Cas’ feather-light touch.  
Mouth dry, Cas leaned over to whisper in Dean’s ear.  
“Come for me, Cat-eyes...” he growled low.  
Dean locked up, eyes wide and unseeing, mouth agape in a silent cry, as his cock pulsed out his release.  
A thick rope of it splattered over Dean’s cheek and chin, and Cas felt his own arousal peak, spasming his body.  
Good lord that was hot! He stroked his dick, enjoying the sensation, but nothing beat the way Dean looked as he came. Cas quickened his pace as he saw Dean slowly drifting down from his high.  
“That’s it, Cat-eyes... so sexy... so fucking gorgeous. I could watch you come all day. You make me want to quit all my jobs and just have sex with you, all day every day... Fuck, Dean...”  
His gut tightened, his balls drew in. “Dean... uhhhnnn. Dean.... fuck, fuuuuck... DEEEAAANNNN!”  
He threw his head back as his come splattered all over Dean’s side and belly.

When the world came back in focus, Cas lay draped over Dean, chest first in their combined release.  
“Hello, Angel, welcome back.”  
Dean sounded fucked out, but amused.  
“Dean...” Holy mother! His voice was wrecked! Cas cleared his throat, causing Dean to chuckle low.  
“Yeah... I’m sure Sammy is gonna invest in noise cancelling headphones. You were loud.”  
Cas smirked at the implication.  
“You weren’t,” he answered. “You were completely silent. You obeyed me so perfectly. I loved it. And I love you...”  
He kissed one of the few splatter-free bits of Dean’s torso and Dean hummed softly.  
“You were amazing, gorgeous and perfect, Dean,” Cas intoned, not allowing Dean’s self-esteem issues to interrupt.

He pushed up, kissed that cute, freckle dusted nose and went to the bathroom.  
He got two warm washcloths, and a soft towel.  
Dean’s green eyes were questioning as he watched Cas come back.  
Lovingly, Cas wiped Dean clean, rubbing him gently dry with the towel before quickly, but thoroughly, cleaning himself.  
“Shall I make breakfast?” he offered, once Dean had stopped blushing.  
“You cook?” Dean asked amazed, which had him chuckle.  
“Gabriel is my brother, Dean. If I wanted to eat anything without sugar, I would have to do it myself, or wait until we were at the restaurant.”  
Dean tilted his head in acceptance. “I can see that. But let me help.”  
Resolutely, Cas shook his head. “No. You were so good to me. Now I’m gonna spoil you. Lay here, watch more tv. I’ll be back shortly.”  
Dean blinked slowly, but snuggled down. “Alright. If you don’t mind...”   
Cas smiled. “I don’t.”

He made pancakes with bacon, waffles, and strong, black coffee.  
Dean wasn’t watching tv, but he was still in bed.  
With his adorably ruffled bedhead and still naked, he was a sight to see, even as he was reading on his laptop, a frown on his face.  
“Dean... you might want to put that away now, before we have an accident with the coffee,” Cas offered.  
Dean looked up, and a smile lit up his face.  
“Hey there, Angel. Ooh! That looks great!” he enthused.  
Cas crawled in next to him and they ate in silence for a while.  
“Ya know, Angel. You did everything right, just now,” Dean suddenly said, after wiping his mouth.  
Cas swallowed his sip of coffee. “How so?”  
After taking the tray and carefully placing it on the floor, Dean pulled the laptop back on the bed.  
“You see, I did a little research. Just so we know shit, instead of finding it out as we fuck it up.”  
Cas nodded slowly. “I knew you’re a smart man. What did you find out?”

Dean opened the screen and showed him.  
“It seems I was hitting a very special place when I was zoning out. Sub-space. It’s like a trip, only no drugs needed. I was floating, feeling 100% safe and cared for. Your sweet words made me feel special in a way I never have. Plus I just let go. Just... poof! Not a care in the world. No need to be in control, to have all the answers. Not beeing held accountable, not being big-brother or even the mechanic or assassin. I was just Dean, who you were free to use as you willed. I knew you would never harm me.”  
A light blush covered his cheeks, as if admitting this was a flaw.  
Cas kissed him on the cheek.  
“I wouldn’t. But what did I do that was so good?”  
Dean kissed him on the nose, rubbing his thumb over Cas’ cheekbone.  
“Here, I’ll show you...” he said, scrolling to a paragraph called ‘Aftercare’.


	36. Chapter 36

“Dean! Castiel!”   
Cas looked up from the drink he was pouring.  
“Samandriel! I’m glad you could come,” he said fondly, walking over to his cousin to warmly embrace him.  
“I told you, Castiel, I’m Alfie,” came the soft reprimand, and Cas chuckled.  
A blush covered his cousin’s cheeks and he looked a bit sheepish.  
Dean wiped his hands on the towel next to the grill and came over, his eyes crinkled and a smile gracing his face.  
“Alfie! Dude! Good to see ya. Who’s this?”  
A young girl shyly stood half hidden behind Samandriel.  
Castiel, Dean. This is Maggie. She is... my girlfriend.”  
Dean’s smile grew tenfold and Cas had to admit his husband never looked more beautiful, outside of the bedroom.

“Alfie! My maaaannn!”   
Cas rolled his eyes, but couldn’t stop his smile.  
Gabriel came from the house, dressed in a white suit, burgundy silk shirt and Heaven help Cas... his Marvel Loki helmet.  
“Gabe. Man. The helmet. Stop that. You are not Loki. No matter how hard you wish you were,” Dean chuckled.  
Sam had followed Gabriel and simply plucked the offending garment from his husband’s head.  
“Hey! No fair, Sammoose! You’re using your gigantor length against me!” Gabriel whined.  
Superiorly unimpressed, Sam simply put the helmet on the roof of the porch and shrugged.  
“Like you couldn’t handle me,” he scoffed. “Shut up Gabe, hug your cousin, and meet his new girl.”  
He held out his hand for Maggie to shake. “Hi... I’m Sam, Dean’s brother and his is Gabriel, Castiel’s brother, and my husband.”  
Maggie blushed cutely and took Sam’s hand.  
“Maggie... you all seem... very... nice.”  
Gabriel squinted at the girl, making her crawl closer to Samandriel.  
“Hold up... is this about the ‘husband’ thing?” he inquired suspiciously.  
Maggie blushed bright red. “No, sir! I... I am just a little overwhelmed. Alfie told me so much about you all. And... and...”  
Cas felt sorry for her, so he intervened.  
“Gabriel Eric Novak. Will you stop scaring the poor girl? I know we are all concerned about Alfie, but scaring off any potential partners is not the way to go. If that’s how you’re going to be, I will not let you be involved in the lives of our children.”

Dean rolled his eyes, Sam beamed and Gabriel gasped.  
“Children? Kids... you two?” he stammered, golden eyes flicking between Dean and Cas.  
Dean sighed and shoved Cas lightly.  
“Seriously, Cas. You couldn’t wait until after dinner?” he groused kindly, then turned towards the others. “Yes. Kids. Us. We offered Kelly, Lucifer’s mistress, to take her boy, since Luci is serving life with no parole.”  
Seeing the confused looks, Cas explained.  
“Kelly is ill. Terminally. So we want to help her out. Make sure her son is safe and well cared for.”  
Sam smiled warmly at them, but he did have one question.  
“You guys... but you said kids, plural. Is that a wish, or do you have more to tell?”  
Cas ducked his head as his cheeks began to flame, hoping Dean would help him out, but his darling husband just kissed his cheek.  
“You tell ’em, Angel. I’m gonna get something inside. Wanna help me, Maggie? You would be perfect to help.”  
Maggie nodded and with a last glance at Samandriel, she followed Dean inside.

Of course. Cas knew what Dean meant by doing this, but he still hadn’t wanted to tell this alone.  
“Well?” Gabriel hedged, obviously suspicious of the whole thing.  
With a sigh, Cas continued.  
“Remember I told you about that one job, I had my doubts about?” he asked, pleading the family with his eyes to understand.  
Three heads nodded carefully.  
“I didn’t do the job, but apparently Uriel did. Thoroughly. They never found the guy.”  
Sam hung his head, Gabriel rolled his eyes, and Alfie bit his lip.  
“Damn,” Gabriel whispered.  
“Yes,” Cas conceded. “Damn indeed. With father gone, the mother broke, kept trying go find him. Their only daughter ended up at the CPS, because her mother just neglected her, in favour of finding her father.”  
All three men in front of him wore same sad expression, although Gabriel’s was mixed with guilt. He knew Lucifer had made up the claims for some of his targets, just so the hit would be done.

Dean walked back out, followed by Maggie, and a blonde, surly teen with Kohl rimmed blue eyes and a reserved expression.  
Cas straightened, a soft smile on his face. “Guys, meet...”  
“Claire?” Gabriel exclaimed.  
“Uncle Gabriel!” Claire called back, and suddenly she ran to him, throwing herself into his waiting arms.  
Cas had his jaw hanging loose, while Dean threw the pair a puzzled frown.  
“You... know each-other?” Cas queried carefully.  
Claire didn’t answer, just burrowed deeper in Gabriel’s silk shirt.  
“Yeah... she’s Jimmy’s kid,” Gabriel offered.  
The world tilted on its axis for Cas and if Dean hadn’t lunged and caught him, he’d have fallen to the grass.  
“J... Jimmy? Cousin Jimmy from aunt Amara?” he stammered.  
No wonder Claire had trouble looking him in the eyes.

Sam and Dean looked confused, where Samandriel had blanched so much he could lie in the snow and no-one would know he was there.  
“Cousin? You’re kidding me...” Dean finally managed.  
Cas bit his lip and shook his head slowly.  
“Sadly, no. Hang on.”   
He shakily stood and made his way inside.  
When he returned, he was holding an old picture.  
“That’s me and Jimmy on aunt Amara’s fiftieth birthday,” he explained.  
Dean took the picture and nearly dropped it.  
“Holy fuck!” he exclaimed.  
Curious, Sam took the thing from Dean’s lax fingers.  
“Oh my God,” he breathed. “Are you twins or something?”  
Cas gave him a smile without mirth.  
“Jimmy and I were born a week apart. I here, Jimmy a week later in Bozeman, Montana. Auntie was visiting her parents in Sappington. We grew up in different parts of the country. Imagine our surprise when we met on Gabriel’s 25th birthday party.”

Dean turned to Claire, who was sobbing against Gabriel’s chest.  
“Fuck, kiddo...” he said, reaching out but not touching her, apparently sensing she wouldn’t appreciate it.  
Gabriel smiled at Dean, blinking slowly.  
Eyeliner and tears stained his immaculate clothing, but Gabriel just mumbled in the blond hair and shushed the girl softly.  
“Oh hon... I’m so sorry. But I swear, Cassie is really someone different.”  
Claire snuffled and nodded, smudging more make-up on the white jacket.  
“I know, uncle Gabriel. As soon as he spoke, I knew.”  
She turned to Cas, her eyes still moist, her face stained with eyeliner.  
“I’m sorry, Castiel. I... I was convinced you were him, and he’d just dumped mom and me to marry a guy. But his voice was so much higher, so less gravelly. You couldn’t be him. Yet every time you look at me, you look so guilty. I don’t know what to think... but I want to try. I really want to be your kid.”  
She released Gabriel and awkwardly hugged Cas.  
Cas squeezed his eyes shut and hugged her back, his crushing guilt lessening slightly.


	37. Chapter 37

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There we have it. The ending of my very first ‘bang’. What a ride it was for me! I hope you liked it too, because as I type this, there is a WIP about this verse waiting for me to come back to it. I’m pretty sure it won’t be done before all the Pinefest fics are posted. I’m not that far in yet.  
> Anyway, again, thanks to all my Pinefest- and Fanfic authors gone wild Discord peeps for being such pilars of support.  
> #OnlyLove from Holland. Hectatess

“Daaaaad!”  
Rolling his eyes at the inelegant screech, Dean straightened from under Baby’s hood.  
“Now what, Claire? Is Jack being a normal 12 year old and annoying you?” he groused, disgruntled at being interrupted for the umpteenth time since he popped the hood.  
Claire threw him a smirk from where she was leaning against the doorpost.  
“Nah. Cousin Alfie is here. And uncle Sam and uncle Gabe came in too.” She flung her blond hair over her shoulder and turned to walk inside.  
“Hey!” Dean called after her. “Did you call Cas too?”  
She nodded and kept going.  
Wiping his hands, Dean dropped the hood softly and patted Baby’s roof.  
“I’ll be back, sweetheart. Family is calling,” he explained softly.

Inside, Dean grabbed a cup of coffee in his bee mug before making his way to the living-room.  
“Dean,” Alfie said, his grey eyes lighting up.  
“Heya Alfie, Maggie. How’s life?” Dean asked, smiling around the lip of his mug.  
Maggie, who had blossomed in their 4 years together, grinned and winked at Dean.  
“Let’s wait for Cas, huh?” she teased.  
Dean quirked an eyebrow at Claire, who rolled her eyes and stood with a huff.  
She made her way to the stairs where she inhaled deeply before bellowing out.  
“Caaaaas! Get down! Dad is already here! He could tear himself away from Baby, you can say ‘Annyeong’ to that sexy pal of yours!”

Several eyebrows shot up, uncertain glances were shot at Dean, who closed his eyes and smiled.  
Under the worried eyes of his family, except Jack and Claire, who knew their parents, he went up the stairs.  
In the study, Cas sat behind the desk, and the mischievous smile of Kim Namjoon could be seen behind him.  
Dean smiled broadly and waved.  
“Annyeonghoseyo Namjoon,” he greeted. “Naneun nampyeon-i pil-yohae.”  
Namjoon chuckled in his deep voice, and his dimples popped up  
“Hello Dean. That’s ok. We were just discussing details for next week,” he replied warmly.  
Dean chuckled and ran his hand through Cas’ dark locks.  
“Awesome. We’ll have the spare rooms ready for you and the Ryus. You just enjoy your vacation. You’ve earned it. I’ll get the kids.”  
He quickly called Jack and Claire, who came running upstairs to say Bye to Namjoon.  
“Annyeong, Namjoon hyung,” Jack said with a slight bow.  
“Annyeong, Namjoon oppa,” Claire smirked.  
Namjoon flashed his dimples at her.  
“Annyeong, Jack, Claire. Thanks for calling me sexy,” he said with twinkling eyes.  
Claire blushed deeply, but grinned. “You are, and you’re smart too. Too bad I have Kaia, or I might have tried to seduce you.”  
Namjoon laughed out loud.  
“You would fail. Until next week, kids. Jar ga!” he said, still chuckling.

The children left and Dean and Cas lovingly watched them go.  
“They are so great,” Namjoon commented. “I know Kwan-Sun and I will have a wonderful time with them.”  
Cas beamed up at Dean, who smiled back.  
“I just hope Claire will keep a level head. She might be aware you are here without the other six, and on a vacation, but if her friends get wind of it...” Dean predicted darkly.  
That brought out Namjoon’s dimples again. “I’ve had a lot of experience with fangirls by now. I’m sure I can handle it.”  
“Right,” Dean aknowledged. “Angel, besides Alfie and Maggie, Sam and Gabe have arrived too. I think it’s a family meeting by now. I’m sorry to cut your Skype with Korea short, but...”  
Namjoon nodded and waved at the camera.  
“I will see you next week, Kaseuti-el hyung. Annyeong.”  
Cas greeted back and the connection severed.  
“Let’s go down, Cat-eyes,” Cas purred, his blue eyes intense.  
Knowing that look, Dean promised himself the family meeting would be a short one.

Seated on the armrest of Cas’ chair, Dean surveyed his gathered family with a smile.  
“So. What’s so important you had to get us all together, Alfie?”  
All heads turned to where Alfie sat, holding hands with his Maggie.  
This was Dean’s family. Only ones missing were Bobby and Charlie, but still, he felt at ease.  
Alfie blushed a bit, but Maggie squeezed his hand in encouragement.  
“We.. we’re gonna move in together. We got a nice offer on an apartment,” he said, grinning.  
Sam beamed at them. “That is awesome. Where?”  
Maggie grinned back. “That high-rise just off Pine Ridge Plaza...”  
Dean, Cas and Gabriel all sprang to their feet and in unison they called out. “NO!”  
The others all jumped and stared.  
“W..Why not?” Alfie wondered, his blue eyes big and round.  
Cas and Gabriel turned to Dean, who sighed.  
“Sorry. It’s just... we wouldn’t want you in that neighbourhood.”  
He glanced at his husband, who nodded once.  
“Cas and I, we have some savings. We’ll help you find a house, ok?”

It took some persuading, but after all these years, the bottom of their combined savings wasn’t even in sight, let alone scraped, so Dean and Cas were adamant that it wasn’t any inconvenience.  
Alfie and Maggie agreed on a low-interest loan, because they didn’t want to feel indebted.  
Dean knew all about that, so he made Cas agree.  
They waved the happy couple off, glad to have heard of the apartment before the kids had signed on it.  
To make the day even more perfect Sam and Gabe offered to take Jack and Claire along to their ranch for the week. Since school was out for summer, they gladly agreed.  
The kids packed and Sam helped them load the Charger.  
Claire hung back a bit.  
“Dad...” she started.  
Dean smiled at her, proud of the 17 year old girl. Even though she wasn’t his blood, she was his.  
“Yeah?” he answered, wondering what was wrong.  
“Dad... I’m glad you and daddy adopted us,” she admitted in a low voice, before hugging him fiercely.  
Cas stood by the car, biting his lip.  
Dean hugged her back, and whispered in her ear. “Did you tell that to Cas too?”  
Claire huffed a laugh, then threw herself at Cas.  
“I love you, daddy,” she said, and Cas looked stunned. That was the first time she ever called him that to his face.  
“I love you too, honey,” he whispered as he buried his nose in her hair. Dean pretended to not see the tears in his eyes.  
Claire squeezed once more, then hurriedly climbed in the backseat, where Jack sat, waiting to go.  
“Bye!” they called and they were off.

“Hm,” Dean hummed, looping his arm around Cas’ waist, staring after their kids and brothers.  
“Who’d have thought a visit to a restaurant and a shared, secret job could leave us here?”  
Cas leaned into him, then kissed him sweetly.  
“Not me, Cat-eyes. But I know where I’m taking you next...” he promised with a lewd wink.  
“Hmmm, Angel...” Dean cooed as they made their way inside.  
“Wanna skip dinner?” he offered.  
Slipping his fingers in the loops of Dean’s jeans, Cas licked his lips.  
“You read my mind...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation Korean-English:
> 
> Annyeonghoseyo - a more formal version of Annyeong like instead of Hi or Bye one would say Hello or Goodbye  
> Naneun nampyeon-i pil-yohae - I need my husband  
> oppa - a honorific given to older males (brother, cousin, friend) by a female


End file.
